Ich schrie kurz auf.Er rammte sein Finger besonders tief in mich hinein, spießte mich förmlich auf. „Das gefällt dir.“Ich bäumte mich nochmals...auf, mein ganzer Oberkörper war jetzt überspannt. „Fick mich doch endlich.“ Ich bettelte fast.Wieder schlug er meine Brust, peitschte seine Fingerspitzen über meinen harten Nippel.Ich zuckte, schwitzte, keuchte, war ein Bild verzweifelter Lust, totaler Erregung.Da ließ er von mir ab. Er positionierte sich neu zwischen meinen weit aufgespreizten Beinen,. . wuss.“Face it, he’s a pansy and you need a real man. A surgeon with a strong stomach like me, not a stockbroker or CPA or whatever the fuck he is,” Dr. Stewart dared to proposition Mom.Clearly, the pills were the death knell for the hashtag “pound me, too” movement, weren’t they? If neither sex had the hang-ups and scruples of the past, nobody was going to complain that someone made sexual advances. They would rather bitch and moan if someone didn’t do so. Yeah, Alyssa Milano, eat your heart. More

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