She is almost 19 and I am 41. I met her at the book stand along the Seine. She said, “You reminds me about my father that’s why I desire you”.
Here in this small room, in a rainy-day in Paris, protected from the world outside, a place to hide, a place to lose the fears.
The milk dripping from her, as I pound rhythmically, my penis made little sucking sounds. All the air is drawn from her womb, my sex is so fit to her, fill her completely.
And as I swung in and out of the milk continuously, my cock all glistening, hitting the tip of her tiny womb.
Later on, when she sleeps. I stand by the window, sipping my coffee, watching the heavy rain fall down on Paris. Thinking about love, loss and grieve.