Her Fuckpad

She jokingly said something belittling in her drunk stupor. For once, I wanted her to gather her clothes and sleep in a ditch. Her true feelings afloat her one too many vodka grapefruits. I let her ride, her hands gripped my shoulders and she bounced.  I grew impatient as the fuck session lasted longer than necessary.  Miraculously, she came within the hour, slid off; quite pleased with herself and slept.