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We originally positioned ourselves at the foot of the bed, but with time and pressure we scooted so that when we were done (or at least briefly done) only a foot on the floor, a hand on the Esse and the friction of sweaty sheets kept us from tumbling out of bed.
So tightly were we pressed together that he’d not yet pulled from my body. I found that by rocking my pelvis ever so slightly and squeezing a certain set of muscles, I could slide him back and forth against my g-spot. “I love you, xxxxxx,” he said into my ear. We rocked gently until our complicated bracing system finally gave way, forcing us to choose between rolling apart or falling to the floor.
We rolled apart. After a moment he asked, “Have I told you tonight how beautiful you are?”
As sorely tempted as I was to make a joke about his glasses-off blindness, I refrained. “No, you haven’t told me,” I said. “You can tell me now.” He did, and because I’m nothing if not an embarrassingly emo girl, I cried a little, surreptitiously wiping drips of tears and snot onto the already-damp sheets.
Ours is an unlikely match and an unconventional relationship. Anyone knowing the full details surely would question the wisdom of our union. But for some impossible to explain reason, it works. We fit. And he’s given me something miraculous, something that had been missing for so long before him.
Is this what autumn is? Is it contentment?
If not for you, there would be
a bigger hole inside of me.
If not for you, the stars above
would not be new or try to
carry love…
–The Cliks - Nobody Else Will

Monet Lingerie, Sexy Lingerie and Stiletto Heels
