Chapter 99 Michael Is So Different From Diego

• The sound of a creaking bed and the rustling of aluminum foil tell me they’re moving on to the third act next to us. It doesn’t bother me much now that I am minutes away from climaxing.
• “Oh, yes,” James moans deeply, and I know he has just pushed himself toward her.
• My muscles tense against Michael’s fingers. The repetitive squeaking of the mattress and the slapping of skin begin. Michael grinds his hips against my backside, pressing his hard length against me. He is practically panting, his warm breath kissing my skin in small puffs. I start to feel guilty. Everyone here is about to finish—except him. So I reach back and, with trembling fingers, slide my hand into his sweatpants, under his boxers, and wrap my hand around his waist. He Is big. Not as big as Diego, but still impressive - and so incredibly hard.