I obviously was neither the actor not the liar that I thought I was. She seemed to sense almost every falsehood and doubt I felt or expressed."Honey, don't let something that we can't control ruin our lives. You have a woman standing in front of you who would literally do anything for you. You are the best part of my life. And I know that you love me too. Why let the Rite ruin us?" she asked. "It's not like it's going to go away any time soon, Can I tell you something? I don't like it either. I hate the idea of you going out there and screwing some random woman. I especially hate it at times like these when you're not screwing me." When I remember running around with my pussy sore almost constantly because you couldn't get enough of me and I loved you so much I just couldn't tell you no, I just shake my head. I want you even more now than I did then. I was younger then and I liked sex, but now I crave it and you aren't old enough that you've started to slow down," she said."Is it me?. Not only was she able to see her chest rise and fall with the depth of each breath, she heard her panting, the short irregular gasps. Each breath, each exhalation, released pieces of her tension, of her self-doubt, her toxins, ghosts of the past. She moaned, loudly. Thoughts of his hand at her neck, stilling her, gazing into her eyes, reading her soul consumed her. She knew he saw that moment of panic before it was purged with the rest of her poisons. Calmness. His. He had a way of cleansing her insecurities, her self-imposed impurities. Chloe reached for her vibrator. Bringing it to her begging sex, with a quick smooth forward assaulting motion, she was full. She turned it to high. Her chin stretched up, her eyes closed. Pulling it out, ramming it in, she heard her pussy slurping at it, sucking at it. Again. Her hands were nearly unable to grip the vibe because of the amount of sweet creaminess that was all over the end. Again. She felt her legs tense, her stomach tighten. .
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