Success with her work didn’t qualify either, and she didn’t think Preston cared much about success either, only cared about her instead. She took ...er own poetry less seriously than the others at the university, a blithe disregard for it, because she had already matured enough to want the things within her reach—like a normal relationship with a normal guy who didn’t get into bar fights or tremble around her like a sentry protecting a flag. Poetry was more a vehicle for bliss, not a showcase for. He started fucking me slow and deep to start with getting faster and faster until he was fucking me like a jackhammer making me moan like a whore on heat begging him to fuck me harder, deeper and faster.After what seemed a lifetime of pure visceral pleasure, he said, "I'm gonna cum, where do you want it bitch!!". I just looked back at him and said, "in my cunt stud". Just as I said that he cum hard and long, pumping what felt like a gallon of hot creamy cum deep inside my well fucked and abuse. More

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