“I can’t do this.” he thought, then cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled back into the empty studio, “I’m a god damned Michelin muth...rfucking Star, Cordon Bleu Chef, and that pisshead, Durant, can find another babysitter for his golden boy”. He fell back onto his chair as he felt all his breath expel at once, bereft of will, he rocked back on two legs letting the wooden spindles of the back hit the counter bullnose end and laid his elbows deep onto the surface. Eli let his head fall. The hips moved, just a little further with every thrust , half inch, three quarters, a full inch, it was like poetry in motion, slowly inextricably those hips moved away then back into the waiting, crying, gasping body, who`s fingers dug deep into his black shoulders and who`s breath was now in gasps interposed with groans, not so much of pain now, as the sexual excitement was overtaking that, and she was past caring, but they were groans of deep excitement, grunts of the breath being forced. More

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