56.

On our last night together, I looked up at him hopeful, because I thought we'd have forever.

And we could've.

All I had to do was say the words.

But they never came out.

We had discarded of our clothes in record time, and for the first time ever, I was completely naked before him.

I had always felt self conscious of my body, even though his filthy mouth would always remind me in these moments that I was shaped perfectly, that I needed to start realising it for myself.

But it was easier said than done.

He lifted me by the hips slightly, and I supported my own weight on my knees so that he could slide the condom down.

Then, with a whimper of his name, I lowered myself down onto him, wincing slightly, to which he used his large hands to stop my rocking movements.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it just feels different."

"Good or bad different?"