She moaned with each entry. She tried to back up and force him in deeper, faster, but his hands that gripped her hips held fast. He was in control and...he intended to stay that way. Damn it, I need you to fuck me! she hissed. Patience, woman, patience. Frustrated, she tried to pull away from him, but still he held tight. He started moving a little faster, but with the same deliberate in and out motion. He knew deep down she wanted it harder, rougher, but he was so enjoying making her sweat. On. We touched. We remained immensely respectful of each other. It was erotically charged, but completely safe and well "held" by the organisers. I found myself, three times, holding a beautiful woman in my arms, naked and gentle moving against me, as she felt the space, felt the touch of others or the sounds of the dark room. Without any words spoken she guided me to hold her where she would gain most pleasure from the encounter. We breathed together - and in one case, with just my hold and our. More

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