Saying like my penis; I am a grower, not a show'er and that her and her subslut, could make me or better yet break me, mind fucking me, have me beggin... for more and more orgasms, the type of orgasms that literally will drain the life out of a person. If they, or once they forced 6 orgasms from me using different combinations of breathe play, oral and manual stimulation of ' the cock' & balls, or hammering on the prostrate with a tongue that felt long enough to punch my stomach, but could swell. As she pulled forward and away from me, my dick flopped out of her, making a soft, wet splat against her ass cheek. I caressed her shoulder and tenderly kissed the back of her neck. She patted my hand but didn't say anything. After a few seconds and in a still breathless voice, she spoke, "I'm sorry. I forgot that I stopped taking the pill. . . . . But I'm being silly. What are the chances of me getting pregnant?", she giggled nervously. I kissed her shoulder and neck as the head of my. You're like all men... All you're interested in is what's between a woman's legs... All you want is a fast fuck!... I hate you... GET OUT!... She closed her eyes against the pain of remembrance. Why, oh why had she said those things? Chris was the last guy in the world interested in a fast fuck! He had proved that to her over and over again. And she still loved him. She thought now that perhaps she loved him more than ever. But he wouldn't answer any of her letters, and Wendy was strangely. So why was I here? Looking over these acres of agricultural land that I had bought on little more than a whim, as I contemplated I started to berate myself for ignoring the pragmatism that had guided me up to now and my hopes wilted. Land like this was completely out of my business plan, it was doubtful that the local council would ever grant planning permission for the land, therefore no developer would approach me begging to buy this parcel for far more than I had paid. Yet I was here having.