A sloppy mess. She milked him completely.And suddenly all these thoughts he had repeated in his mind felt foreign to him, slightly disgusting even. He...had shot so much semen in his wife’s wet pussy. He slid out slowly. He didn’t really want to do this anymore. He would rather grab a towel, lie down and fall asleep. “Holy fuck! I’m a fucking mess. It’s overflowing” he heard her say, her voice almost coming from a (bad) dream, from a fantasy he no longer felt a part of. He actually really didn’t. He tilted his head, the way that artists do, and pursed his lips in a thoughtful way. ‘May I?’ he asked, reaching out to take the dress from my tight grip. ‘May I see you?’ he repeated softly, in response to my hesitance. He leaned forward and his lips softly brushed against my neck before he whispered, ‘Show me how beautiful you are.’ Truthfully, I was unsure, but he was even more intoxicating in person than in my imagination. I let the dress slip away and stood bare in front of him. He. More

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