" You breath out between groans as you lead your cock deeper and deeper into my pussy, soon completely disappearing. A moan escapes my lips and, as if it were a signal, you begin to steadily work my pussy. First slow, disappearing in my pussy and then coming out until just the head was inside, and again. "Oh yes! Fuck me." I beg, sinking back into the couch as you begin to pick up both speed and power. After awhile you can hear your balls slapping against my asshole, soaked with a mixture of my pussy juices and your precum. I open my eyes to stare up at your face as you fuck me vigorously, wildly. Your hands grasp again on my breasts and you pull and tug on them, forcing me back to meet your thrusts. "Oh god." I can feel myself slipping over the edge and then you hook your arm under my waist and lift me up just slightly, your cock now massaging my g-spot. That was it, I was over the edge and couldn't get back. I moaned and shook as ripples went through my body, like being shocked by. "The ship, the girls, the restless travel. It helped. It was a great run, with lots of parties and lots of fun and lots of lovers and lots of sex. And I still want to have parties and fun and sex, but I don't want to be running anymore. Or maybe it's better to say that I don't need to run anymore. I ran out of fear, Moira. I ran because I'd made the life I had with Lisa and Paul into the perfect domestic scene, at least in my head. And if I never again was settled down as a husband with a perfect wife and child and home, then it could never be taken away again, right?"But over the last few months, I've slowly come to realize that running away couldn't protect me — that my ship and my fun and my 'girls' — and most, most especially you, Moira, were as important to me as Lisa and Paul ever had been. As Joanne left, and then Kate left, it hurt more than I allowed myself to show. And yes, Moira, if I'd tried to have this conversation with you a couple of weeks ago, you'd have been right.
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