He takes her inside, sets her on the floor, then drags her under her arms to the bed.He drags her up on the bed and starts to check her out.

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He takes his time but then moves to roll her over again to remove the jeggings.

As he slowly peels them off, he sees her sexy pink panties and wants to dig in. He goes back to her ass, massaging and kneading it like bread.

He rolls her over and finishes removing her shirt and bra.

He handles her breasts, squeezing them a bit roughly.

Usually gang bangs were a sure bet to getting off, but not this time. No longer was there enough shame in simply watching porn. I rarely allowed myself to surrender to the sensations or our connection — that’s not the kind of pleasure I knew. I needed to separate shame from pleasure, and the first step was to get rid of the source material I’d long used to enforce this bond.

I kept searching, clicking through endless galleries of flesh, waiting to be impressed. One that gave me that body-tingling, heart-racing, sweat-inducing rush of excitement. In order to keep this going, I had to have more sex and more fantasies. I started attending SLAA (Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous) meetings and turned away from porn.

He plays with her and plays with her body a bit caressing and touching her.

He goes for the shoes to expose her feet, he rolls her over to feel her ass in the jeggings for a while, enjoying her perfect ass, and afterwards unsnaps her bra.

She goes from fighting to limp and dead, eyes wide open in less than a second.