Besides, with the slower pace, the eye contact, and the deeper thrusts, my sensitivity came back in full. Ronny made love to me, made love to my asshole, kissing me with urgent need and giving me his whole heart. And I somehow came again, when he did. I felt ridiculously full by the time he was done, but I felt proud.
I had never actually begged him for more, hadn't sung his praises even as I came on his c**k over and over again. I still had my rebellion, could still claim I didn't f*****g love losing my last cherry. I did slutty things, but I didn't come across as a slut for my big brother, and that was a victory in my book.
"How was that?" I asked, trying to mask the satisfied sigh.
"f*****g amazing. Best ass I've ever fucked."
"Damn right." I scowled at him. "Hmph. You said you coul
