I ignored it and thought she was just messing around, and hurried to the bathroom before she noticed something, when she stopped me in my tracks. ...Taking care of something?" She asked. "Just going to the bathroom." "Sure you are. Come over here and sit with me." I hesitantly started to make my way over to Vanessa, attempting to subtly cover my raging boner. "Need some help?" She whispered. "No, I'm fine, thanks." I started to turn red from embarassment (who wouldn't?). She slammed me down. He fucked her feministly. He was bold and assertive and powerful. He took her fully. And yet, the power was always underpinned by an erotic politics of equity. Every time they fucked she had to ask him to stop the second his perfect cock slid into her tight pussy. She needed a moment to breathe, to encounter the delicious impossible task of stopping herself from coming instantly, of resisting dissolution into the full-body orgasms he artfully elicited in her so she could fuck him slowly until. More

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