You’re not fully immersed unless you’re moaning my name. Louder and louder as you teeter on the edge for me.
That’s it, my good boy. I relish the sight of your face as you drift away, sinking deeper into the goon, unsure if you’ll ever resurface. Frankly, you’re not even sure you want to. It feels too good.
Moan for me. Let me hear your desperate need, your insatiable craving for this.
Louder. Do your neighbors hear you yet? I want the world to know that you’re My weak, moaning gooner!
