"I see," she said, matter-of-factly. "So it strokes your ego a little, knowing other men want to fuck me, but can't?"
"Well, to be honest, sometimes I think about more than them just WANTING to fuck you..."
She looked confused. "What do you mean by "more than them just wanting to fuck me?" she whispered.
I was breathing hard. I stammered, "sometimes I think... I think, about what it would be like if some stranger actually WERE to fuck you." I swallowed before continuing, "I think about your face, what it would look like as he entered you. What it would be like to hear you moan."
There, I'd said it.
