He stopped, looked into my eyes. Reaching out he touched my cheek, buried his hand in my hair. I moaned again, merely a sigh. And could have kicked my...elf instantly. I remembered his loud moans the night before. Guilty memories of the girls in the porn clips I had watched with my flatmates or friends. They were loud, sometimes nearly screaming. But I could not help it. That wasn't me. Slowly he pressed himself against me. I held my breath. Inch by inch he buried himself deeper in me. It hurt a. It was clear that one I remembered through time was morphing with every lady... my original attractions had evolved and sometime completely morphed...so the memorable appearance of a breast of an early adventure had become more how her sensitive her nipples might have been, or how she moaned when I played with them... it was this analysis that revealed how my arousal trigger points had changed... moving from pure physical attraction to a more cerebral and sensually energy driven... as I got. More

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