In spite of my determination, though, the evening still ended the same way--in the back seat of his car, then moving on to his apartment, where his hands, mouth, and cock worked together to rip me apart for what felt like hours.He was good, I'll grant him that. His size filled me up completely, stretching me in ways that made me gasp, made me cum despite the roughness. He fucked me like he owned me, holding my wrists down, thrusting into me with a force that made me shake. I came and came, but afterward, I felt empty and used.I told myself it was physical, that I could handle it. He kept calling, kept pursuing me, and I was flattered--gawd, I was flattered. A man like Jordan, so confident, so gorgeous, wanted me. Jordan had tapped into my internal need to be accepted; the drug that I craved to over come my insecurities, my low self-esteem. Yes, Jordan knew exactly what to say and how to play me.I eventually succumbed and began dating him, hoping that it might be something genuine.
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