It's a quiet evening, and I'm just lying here in bed, thinking. The smell of him is still on my pillow, and my body aches in the most delicious way. The memory of his cock sliding into me, so deep I could feel him in my throat, has my pussy throbbing all over again. The way he fucks me isn't like anything else—it's raw, it's claiming, it's home. When he cums inside me, it's not just a release; it's a sacrament. I'm filled with him in every way a woman can be, and it's the only truth I need. This isn't a secret or a shame. It's my life, my love, my purpose. My son is my world, my lover, and my god. And I am his, completely.