She moaned as she suddenly saw herself in her mind's eye, saw how she was positioned, offering herself like so many animals to him, somehow feeling a renewed wave of arousal as opposed to the shame she would expect. Then he was there, sliding, teasing, shoving her up the slope to fever pitch, slamming in. She screamed, back arching to nearly painful as he forced his way in with no warning, taking her, filling her and completing her. Then he slid out, and she gripped him, in and she moaned, eyes shut tight, palms flat on the mattress, fingers spread, toes curled.<br/><br/>She listened to her voice, the wanton cries of passion, and she was powerless to stop them, even if he hadn't told her not to hold back. She couldn't think words, couldn't say them, just primal moans, whines, panting, her voice singing harmony to his melody as her hips rolled with him, pushing herself back as he pressed in, rolling forward, and back as he drew out, forcing him against her walls, forcing a moan from deep inside. Her skin shone with perspiration, her mouth open, eyes closed tight, she made quite the picture of lust, ass up, spread before him for his pleasure. This was paradise.