No longer an anal virgin, I rolled to one side to pull him out of me, and felt him slide out and my arse returned to normal. I made to sit down and fe...t some tenderness back there, after all Mike was a big lad, so lay on my belly, feeling a little air escape from me with some embarrassment. ‘You OK baby?’ he said with a concern in his voice. ‘A little sore,’ I said trying not to let any peevishness into my voice. After all, I’d been making love to this man for three months now and he’d given me. He plays with my nipples through my shirt and bra, making me moan and squeeze m legs together, my lips behind his ear. I’m so ready, so willing, so wet. I want to feel him inside me. As I’m rubbing up against him, I’m thinking about last night where he bent me over this same kitchen sink. I’m thinking bout how wet and tight I was for him, and how his thick cock made me scream out his name so loud he gagged me with a dish towel. Moaning more, he traces my figure with his left hand, his right. We see a small copse of young trees to the right and head towards it, scaring a small rabbit from out of the tall grass that surrounds it. Once inside we collapse to the ground, giggling like teenagers. The grass beneath us is cool, dry and very soft. I place my hand on top of yours and gaze into your eyes, lost in your beauty. I lean forward, our lips touch as gently as butterfly wings kiss the breeze. We kiss, moving in closer to each other, the birds serenading, oblivious to the lovers. If you’re unlucky, you gradually slip into a death spiral from which there is no recovery. My character, Marty is somewhere in between, still functioning at a high level but dangerously close to slipping into that death spiral, because we can’t live without affect—genuine, true emotions—for too long before it takes an irreversible toll. This was only his second visit to this particular Atlanta watering hole. He’d been told it was a good pickup spot which college students did not frequent. He.