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I clutched at the couch cushion, but my nails just scraped the plush material. My eyes fluttered open, and I couldn't stop licking then pressing my lips together.
A little friendly competition was good for the soul, he said. I'd seen at least three movies where a guy introduced the girl he was interested in to his job flinging fish.
Inside, I did clamp down, just barely stemming my release. And then the vibrator started up again.
I reached out to Chris who handed me the bottle I'd left on the counter by the sink. The water was warm now, but it was wet and helped my dry throat.
I was standing in an alternate reality.
Despite how I was usually relaxed after sex with Chris-even as vigorous as it had been tonight-something still lingered in my thoughts.
That party. it was the end of what I had thought was a perfect match.
Not that it mattered at the moment. I was more concerned about the burnt smell wafting down the hallway.