“Oh God, touch me,” I whispered. “Please, please Julia. Now, touch me now.” Her hand came up and I could feel her fingers part my lips. “Ye..., yes, there… oh my God!” She wet her fingers with my juices and began rubbing my clitoris. Ever so slowly at first and then with two fingers, she gradually rubbed faster. Just when I thought I would scream with uncontrollable desire, I felt her fingers slip between my lips deep into my vagina, while her thumb massaged my hood. I knew I was going to. Ceras turned to look at her lover and as the doors to the elevator closed he grabbed her in his arms and started to kiss her hard and deep. He bit her lips and she felt her legs turn to mush. It took everything she had to stay on her feet as they kissed. She wanted him, and she wanted him now. The elevator got his floor and they walked down the hall to his suite. He opened the door for her and as soon as she entered the room and he closed the door she moved from being that good wife to being a. The following few days, we didn't talk about it as we were both understandably feeling the well deserved side effects, predominantly serotonin deficiency-induced that come with the territory of a heavy weekend like the one that had just passed. Interestingly, I didn't encounter my usual regrets on this occasion, presumably because some of my lifelong fantasies had been fulfilled and then some.I was reflecting on the difference that 30 hours in the driving seat had made to my GF's entire. That conversation feels like yesterday. I had been unhappy well before, but I don't recall hearing any homophobic abuse from any of my family before that day. I had gone from a happy-go-lucky normal lad, who loved everything about Christmas to a deeply unhappy, angry, self-conscience loner within a few years and my dad had made things much worse for me with his mindless opinion. What bothered me the most was that not one person in that room said anything to suggest that what my dad had said.
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