I can always tell, because your eyes start to cross." Terrence accompanies his accusation with a swirl of his hips, a move that nearly blows the top of my head off. It also nearly dislodges said naughty thoughts he's accusing me of. But not quite. They're so naughty that I can't seem to shake them, despite another virtuoso hip-swirl that makes me groan and claw his back. "Back with us again, are we?" he gasps, laughing as he shags. He really is the most fabulous, fabulous fuck. "Yes! Yes!" It's half gasp, half cry, all genuine. I don't have to do a Meg Ryan when I'm with Terrence. He's just gorgeous and he knows how to do the business. And if that wasn't enough, he looks like a movie star too. And not one of those mindless action hunks, mind you, all pecs and teeth and tan. No, he's like the more thoughtful kind of star, one with lots of grey cells, and a major league sense of humor to go with his exceptional body. And he's on top of me now, going like a jackhammer. Or he was. For a moment, he raises himself up on his elbows and looks down on me.
