"I have a fantasy that for some reason you have to spend a night at a hotel with her," I said, her being the person we talk about the most, in bed.
"How many times do you think you could make her come?" I asked.
"Eight," he said.
I imagine them in the bed with its white sheets, him fucking her all night, licking her pussy, getting her off again and again. His hands on her tits, her smiles, her moans. His sweet intentionality and determination. Trying to make a friend happy, to make her feel good.
A good night.
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