“I read about it in The Anatomy of Fucking by Tatiana Titfukskaya,” said Alison, sitting up. “In the olden days, people used to think that fucki...g was an expression of love.”“What? That’s freaky,” Claire grimaced. “I mean, that’s perverted, that is!”“Well maybe, but – think about it: how did you feel just now? I mean, that wasn’t a textbook fuck, was it? No anal, no dildos, no dirty talk or anything – we weren’t fucking the normal way, were we? It was… different… I mean, Cunts would have hated. All the signs of nervousness were gone, replaced by some sort of primal, carnal desire. She scooted forward and ground her pelvis against me, and moaned softly once again. Her fingers went to the buttons of my polo shirt and when she’d unbuttoned them, she broke the kiss and swiftly pulled the shirt over my head. It joined her sweater on the floor next to the couch.She kissed me again and I took the hint and unbuttoned her blouse. She quickly shrugged it off, revealing a pink lace bra covering. More

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