After Hours: Her Secret, His Visceral Desire

He leaned down and kissed her neck, his tongue sliding over her collarbone. "Tell me how he did it," he growled. "Tell me what he said." She moaned into his ear, her fingers sliding over his chest. "He told me he loved me. He said he wanted me to come home with him and forget about you. But I can't. I love you, baby. I always have." He silenced her with a kiss, his hands moving over her waist and hips. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him down on top of her, her fingers sliding over his chest as she guided his dick into her pussy. He thrust in and out of her, his body moving in a primal rhythm. She moaned his name, her fingers running over his thighs as she rode his dick. He leaned down and kissed her neck, his hands moving over her waist and hips. He was in her, and nothing could tear him away.

The night wore on, the tension in the backyard rising with each passing second. They fucked on and off for hours, the memory of her confession long forgotten. As the sun began to rise in the sky, he carried her inside, her body still pulsing around his dick. He laid her on the bed and made her tell him every detail of her high school fling. She spoke in a soft, seductive voice, recounting the events of that fateful night. He listened, his fingers moving over her waist and hips, his dick throbbing with anticipation. When she finished, he pulled her closer and kissed her neck. "Tell me more tomorrow night," he growled. "But don't ever hide anything from me again."