With D

I am in love with D. He's attached to someone else, but I love him.
I keep thinking of what it felt like the last time we were together, and the time before, and
the time before that.
I keep thinking about the way he likes to rub his body against mind, seeking the right places, rooting and rubbing to come inside, and how welcoming I feel when he does.
"Ride that cock, ride it," he pants sometimes as I plunge astride him. "I want to feel you come."