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112

I wake in the early morning light entangled in Jake’s limbs and bed sheets, my body aching and heavy from everything he’s done to me through the night. I can’t help but smile at the memories, a warm blush traveling over my sensitive skin.

If I had thought Jake had a high sex drive when dating his string of floozies, I have severely underestimated him. Last night, he’d been addicted to my body, barely giving me time to recover. He’d been true to his promise and brought me to dizzying heights of orgasm more than once with his expertise and confidence in pleasuring me. There is not a single inch of my skin he has not kissed or licked or massaged softly and I finally passed out from exhaustion, rather than his wavering libido. My brain too confuddled to function anymore. My Casanova is truly a master in the bedroom, with the confidence of a man who has no sexual inhibitions. I am literally glowing all over.

Old Emma has been reborn.

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