He told me to tell him that I loved him right before he came.
I thought it an unusual request, but, in my line of work I've heard far more bizarre and stranger things. I indulged him hesitantly, whispering it at first.
"Tell me! Tell me you love me! Say it please!"Β he urged me.
"Oh, I love you. Yes! I love you!", I replied.
His hips started pushing into me at a more rapid pace, until he was relentlessly pumping his big cock inside of me.
"Do you love me?"Β he asked again, one final time.
"Yes, I love you Joe. I love you, Joe!"
Just then, I felt his manhood engorge and expand, then it began to pulse. I felt his seed spill and fill my pussy up.
We lay there for a few seconds, then he got up off me, walked to the bathroom and asked for a towel. I stood up, his weight leaving a ghostly impression on my body, his seed still inside of me. My breasts danced as I walked to the linen closet to get him a towel. He was already in the shower. His tall, manly body silhouetted against the shower door. I stood there for a couple of minutes and watched him lather up, cleaning my essence off of his body, his cock.
"Why did he want me to say I loved him?"Β I thought. "Would he be saying the same thing if I got pregnant, if I were carrying his child?"Β I seriously doubted that. No trick could love me. I am the provider of fantasy for them. An escape from their harsh reality. A breathe of fresh air.
Joe stepped out of the shower, toweled himself dry and began to get dressed. Afterward, he went into the kitchen and helped himself to a drink. Then he sat down on the couch next to me.
"I love the time we spend together, baby. You make me feel happy. That's good right?"Β Joe said, half asking, half stating.