“I want you to stop,” she said. He didn’t. She moaned still, so he knew it was okay. But was it okay?
“Please, stop,” she begged. She had a desperate look in her eyes that made it very difficult to tell what she really wanted. He would stop, but it felt too good. It was like the heart of addiction lived between her thighs.
He kept going, this time a little softer. She seemed to relax a little. He continued on for a bit, but it wasn’t as good. It didn’t encourage the finish line, so he went harder, even harder then before.
She screamed out, “STOP!”
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes! Why are you stopping, you idiot?”