that g-spot orgasm just keeps getting easier to find
twice tonight. and that warm, wet river kept surging out of me in waves, pooling in the crater of tummy and abdomen beneath raised butt and legs folded over.
they kept making surprised noises at how big a lake of goo i produced, and how quickly it grew in fits and starts, ebb and flow with my cycles of pleasure.
...
even at my most broken, i can still writeβif not considered, deliberate proseβand i can still fuck. and there is a certain healing quality to each.
