He consumed her in ways she had never dreamed or expected that a man could. She was eating from his hand, begging him to cum constantly and she no lon...er thought about her freedom, she no longer wished to be free. She was obsessed with him, craned her neck from the moment he left until he would return to hear the rev of his bike, the sound of his boots on the gravel outside. She craved him, longed for him, and loved him. “What are you?” he asked her one morning, after she’d eaten dry bread from. Her mind raced. How had they closed? How would she get them off? Her sense of detachment was vanishing rapidly to be replaced by a frantic urge. She pulled fruitlessly at the shoe again and again. Of course, the other one was exactly the same way. She doubled her frustration trying to pull it free, regardless. She was completely overtaken by a feeling of shocked disbelief which slowly faded to a sinking despair. She fought once again to get her breathing under control. The frustration of effort. They necked for a while, and then Sophia smiled at him, stood up, and grabbed his hand, leading him from the couch to the bed. He quickly tackled her, making her giggle, and took her mouth in his. As he did so, his hand fluttered lazily on her breast."Oh, I missed this," Sophia breathed. Warren just smiled, and kissed her again, as his hand unbuttoned her blouse. That and her bra were quickly removed, and Warren kissed his way down her neck and then went right for her breasts."Oh, honey, that. “You’re such a naughty boy,” she said.“I’m your boy, after all. How did you expect me to be?” I asked. She laughed.“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she said.“So? Your room or my room?” I asked.“Nowhere! Give me some time to think about it,” she said.She took her finger out of my mouth and went to the kitchen. I was really hoping to get her to bed right now. But I understood her position, and I didn’t want to make things worse by forcing her. I didn’t even talk to her the entire day. I gave her.