It’s complicated with Iris. For lots of reasons.
But obstacles are essential to (my) arousal. The more there are, the harder is my cock. It’s best when these obstacles arise from circumstances, as do these, rather than from ambivalence. Iris has no ambivalence.
But the circumstantial obstacles are many.
Shortly, Iris will show herself to me. I expect we won’t touch one another. I may get a whiff, a glimpse, of her cunt.
She tells herself that what she wants of me is that I fuck her, hard. She knows, full well, that this is not my métier. That if – and it’s a big if – I am to fuck her as she hopes, she will have to give me quite a lot of what I want first. She tells me, she tells herself, that what I want is not what she wants.
And yet – she keeps giving me what I want. And she seems to be enjoying herself.
