Sex with Luca hadn't always been satisfying.

There were moments at the beginning of your relationship with him where his enthusiasm just wasn't enough to make up for his lack of technique, and that, coupled with the fact of how big he was everywhere—porn stars could only dream to be that naturally well-endowed—proved to be too much even for you.

One morning after you passed out from Luca jackhammering his dick into your pussy all night long, you sat him down and told him your honest opinion about your sex life, and, uh, it turned out about as well as you expected.

You anticipated the hurt expression on Luca's face and almost tried to backtrack, but Luca has always been persistent and was never one to be deterred by something as simple as inexperience. The hurt was replaced quickly by determination, and a fervent promise to be better.

So he studied and practiced.

It was the best decision you've ever made.

For one, Luca got good. Really good. Like goosebumps raising, toe curling, eyes rolling back to your skull good. He's made you come on practically every surface of your shared home, against windows and doors and mirrors.

Your pussy still throbs at the memory of last weekend: you seated on Luca's lap with your legs spread out, your back to his chest, his thick cock sinking deep in your cunt at an agonizingly slow pace while his oil-slicked hands toyed with your nipples and your clit, his mouth on your ear whispering how incredible it feels to be inside you and "Does it feel good?"

Every time you tried to look away from the full-length mirror in front of you—placed at just the right angle for you to see the way his cock is pressed inside, heavy-lidded eyes watching your every reaction—he would go even slower and touch you anywhere but the places you wanted to be touched, chuckling lowly while you squirmed and begged him to let you come.
"You already came thrice, and I haven't yet," he purred in your ear, hands spreading oil on your torso, dangerously close to your nipples. "Don't you think I deserve to have a little bit of fun, hm?"

With that impressive stamina of his, he can keep going for hours and hours and hours without stopping, and you can tell it's only out of consideration for your well-being that he regularly takes breaks in between, usually to feed you some food, or to give you a shower or a bath—which, again, often ends up in a steamy session where he wrings an orgasm or two from you.

It was a struggle to keep up with him at first. The bone-deep satisfaction he gave also left you feeling equally exhausted by the time he's done. Once, you laughingly told him that you should just quit your job and be his full time cocksleeve instead. Luca stared at you dead in the eyes and said, "Please."

What choice did you have but to agree?