Oh Emma

You force yourself to slow your pace, to pull a little less on Emma's hips as you thrust into her, to make sure you listen to her body, to what she can handle. Still each thrust is delicious, that high, wavering note in your stomach growing louder and louder, and after a while Anne whispers something into Emma's ear, and Emma sinks down lower, her face pressed into the dark sheets, and the change of angle makes her even tighter. You groan in pleasure, your thrusts becoming a little deeper, less sliding, more pounding, each one its own curve of acceleration. Emma is gasping at every thrust now, the sound muffled by the blankets, as your cock presses into Emma's quivering body...