Make love with your crush

The choice isn't a choice. It's a surrender. You surrender to the moment, to the impossible kindness she's offering, to the chance to feel something other than Garvin's brutal possession. You nod, a silent, **** assent.

A slow, triumphant smile spreads across Ashley's face. She takes your small, hard cock in her hand, her grip firm but gentle. "There's my boy," she whispers, before leaning forward and taking you into her warm, wet mouth.

The sensation is overwhelming. Not because of its intensity, but because of its rightness. Her mouth is soft, her tongue clever, her movements unhurried. She's not trying to gag you, not trying to claim you. She's worshiping you, in a way. She's showing you that this part of you, this "pathetic" part that Garvin dismissed, is worthy of love, of tenderness.

You sink your fingers into her soft hair, your hips rocking gently. For the first time all night, you're not reacting. You're participating. You're not just a hole being used; you're a person being pleasured.

After a few moments, she pulls back, a string of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. She rises gracefully and takes your hand, leading you to the bed. She lies down first, pulling you on top of her.

"Let me see you," she whispers, her hands roaming over your back, your ass, exploring the body that has been so thoroughly claimed by another. "Let me love all of you."

You enter her slowly. The feeling is foreign, warm, tight, but it's nothing compared to the cavernous, overwhelming fullness of Garvin. This is different. This is connection. This is the life you were supposed to have.

You move together, a slow, rhythmic dance. You kiss her, a real kiss this time, full of a gentle, aching sorrow for what you've lost and a ****, grasping hope for what she's offering. It's not the mind-blowing, earth-shattering experience from the hotel room. It's better, and it's worse. It's a glimpse of a peaceful life you're no longer sure you can live.

As you find a rhythm, your phone buzzes again, discarded on the nightstand. You try to ignore it, to lose yourself in the woman beneath you, in the softness of her skin and the sweetness of her kisses. But you know. You know he's watching, electronically, from a distance. Marking his territory, even now.

Ashley feels your hesitation, the subtle tension in your body. She pulls your face down, her lips brushing against your ear.

"Let him watch," she whispers, her voice a low, conspiratorial hum. "Let him see what he can't have. Let him see you being gentle. Let him see you being loved." She rolls her hips against yours, a slow, deliberate movement that sends a fresh wave of pleasure through you. "You're not just his bitch, Harley. You're mine, too. And I know how to share."

Ashley push your cock from out of her pink pussy. Her hand reaching for your phone. She turns on face time with Garvin. She left the bully **** dealer on mic. She make sure to position the phone in a manner that looking over the soon to be lovemaking between her and you.

Ashley push your cock back into her wet pussy. She lean in and kiss you on the lips "Let's show him what a real loving couple looks like." She moaned. She then turns her attention to the phone, her voice dropping to a husky purr. "Are you watching, Garvin? Can you see how much he needs this? How much he needs me? You can break him, but I can heal him. You can fuck him, but I can love him."

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