It was nothing like the movies Tom had purchased and watched for years – nothing like the way he had always imagined it. But despite the differences, it was still perfect.
The room was shabby, unkempt, and without decoration, and yet it played its part. The women, his current and former girlfriend, were models by no means, but were both pretty and sexy, at least in his eyes. Their moves and advances on each other were awkward, timid, and unsure, and yet as one’s body met the other’s, the excited young man was in absolute heaven watching them.
Each cupping their smaller breasts, so that they could bring them together in a meeting of half-hard nipples, guided by nerve-shaken hands. Their fear of losing, looking foolish, and trying something so new and taboo glimmering in their eyes, which fished and darted, avoiding eye contact like such an occurrence would be the death of whoever engaged first. Each whimper and moan of pleasure let loose by one leading to a gleeful and obvious celebration in the other.
But even in its differences from the films he had watched, or from a battle of womanhood between two more experienced
It is true that as they writhe there before him, testing each