.” He had her breast in his mouth, sucking, biting, devouring her with a growl. “I need you.. please, please, take me, make it hurt, make me yours...” And he did as she begged, somehow they wrestled their way out of their clothes and boots and into the room. She was drunk not on alcohol, she was blacked out with lust, she was no longer thinking, no longer fantasising or dreaming she was primal and naked and powerless. He bit her, wherever he wanted, hard enough to leave marks, to make her. If I ask directly, then our relation may broke forever. This has restrained me from asking her. I wanted to make her ask her by herself. So I pretended to be lost in thought. Sometimes really and some times I used to act. I even slept some nights without having sex. My wife was wondering. In other words she was bit scared because she never saw me thinking that much. One day my wife insisted me on telling her what it is. After a lot of request I opened my mouth.Me: nothing recently some kind of. Emanuel couldn't help but hear bits and pieces of the women's conversation, which seemed to be about husbands and boyfriends, and sex, sex, sex. She overhead one pretty, petite redhead recounting that she had taken home one of the girls from purchasing the night before, as a mid-week treat for her husband. Apparently the buyer was happy to have dinner and quite a bit more. The woman the redhead was talking to, who apparently had just met her, giggled and said, "You should invite me over for. "Amy, the things I write in my stories are all just fiction and subjectsthat I know will be very well accepted at the web sites I post them on. Iknow this from reading others stories and what kind of story lines arethe most popular. They have nothing to do with my feelings or anyfantasies I may have. The one you are talking about is one of the mosterotic ones I've ever written but no way whatsoever reflect anything thatI think about or have any urge to do. Fiction is just that....fiction andnot.