Sorry Joe

She feels the head of him press against her entrance, and her breath stops entirely. He enters her slowly—deliberately, inch by inch, giving her time to feel every moment of it. Her back arches, a low moan escaping her lips as she stretches around him, her fingers gripping his shoulders.

Her eyes flutter closed, her head pressing back into the pillow as he fills her completely. When he's fully inside, she lets out a long, shaky breath, her body adjusting to the sheer size of him.

"Fuck. You feel—" she pauses, searching for words, "—different. Bigger. I don't know how to explain it."

She opens her eyes, looking up at him, her hands moving from his shoulders to cup his face.

"Don't be gentle. I don't want gentle."

She shifts her hips beneath him, a silent demand for movement, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper.

"Show me what you wanted to do since the kitchen."

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