Even though my vagina was wet enough, it was still uncomfortable. Michael's breath became unsteady as my inner wall wrapped around his fingers in a fiery heat. He stared at me with a fierce desire to conquer.
Michael didn't speak, but his movements became more wanton, deeper; stimulating the frequency of sexual intercourse.
I was almost driven mad by him. Michael had never spent so much time on foreplay before, and his lower body had been perched high on my first orgasm, but he hadn't entered me yet, and I began to resent his inhuman endurance.
The sound of my wetness grew increasingly loud, and the surge of pleasure inside me continued to build up, but it never reached that peak. I sobbed, put my arms around Michael's shoulders and back, arched my back, and wanted more from him.
I had to beg for mercy. "Michael, Michael... Give it to me, uh, give it to me... "
