I felt so guilty that night on the way to his house. I had promised not to do this. I had a battle in my head: Why would you promise this? Why is this wrong?
My own voice would answer, It is wrong because he doesn't want you except to use you for pleasure.
I promised this because I need a life coach, I need an outside conscious. Yet here I was in my car on the freeway so excited to get there that I could feel the heat between my legs rising high. It was like the very first time all over again, times one hundred. I had waited so long; I could no longer resist his incredibly forward advances. Grabbing the back of my neck on the elevator and breathing in my ear, kissing me in the break room, and last but not least the numerous texts made in the heat of the middle of the night.
Finally I arrive at his house.
He's the kind of guy that enjoys the nakedness of a woman's body. Lingerie would just get in the way of his desired targets. His body is hard and dark and totally in shape. The muscles on his arms make me weak. My head goes cloudy and suddenly I know I am his.
Anything he desires, he whispered in my ear or order me to do while holding me from behind. I am naked in seconds and his strong hands were pushing me back on the bed. He moved like a fierce lion pouncing on his prey. His mouth was so wet and warm sucking on the side of my neck and his fingers waste no time finding my sweet spot.
