“At least now I’m able to cup them; it’s like they were made for my hand,” he commented before he made his first thrust with so much pressure that I felt it in my womb—not my womb, but it was deep in me.
I held the bed sheets for support, and my fingernails dug inside the sheets out of both pleasure and pain. His pace was faster than usual, his hands running through my body nonstop as if he couldn’t get enough of me. I kept moaning, not able to hold them in until his pace slowed. He bent a little, reaching my lips, and I thought he was about to c*m only for him to slowly thrust, which felt much more pleasurable than before.
“Hmm,” I bit my lip to stop a moan as I was not able to explain what my body felt at this moment—I've never felt this before.
He kept going, his hands exploring m
