Emma was crazy. Let me repeat that for clarity: Emma is fucking crazy. And she'd been like this long before I took her virginity in a storm of sweat and confessions. Why call her crazy? Simple. Simple, and utterly terrifying.
After she'd fully impaled herself on me, stretched impossibly wide around the thick ridge anchoring her deep inside, after the shuddering gasps and overwhelmed tears had subsided into heavy breathing, she'd whispered it.
Right against my ear, my hands still cupping her full breasts, my fingers feeling the taut muscles of her ass flexing as she adjusted to the impossible intrusion. Her inner walls pulsed, a frantic, welcoming rhythm around my length.
"One of my fantasies..." she'd murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction and something else. A secret thrill. "...was you fucking me in a car..."
I'd nodded, stroking her back, misunderstanding completely. Sweet. Innocent, almost. "Yeah, we kind of just did that, Em."
