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I've fapped to this lass a number of times. I regret nothing.
I'll occasionally wonder what it's like to talk to her for awhile, using my beginner's poker skills to maintain a straight face while she gurgles and giggles and blows spit bubbles. I'll smile when I think she's flirting, or telling me about her hobbies, which invariably include clapping, singing Sesame Street songs, and laughing at inappropriate moments. I'll pet her cat and tell her how beautiful it looks (but not as beautiful as she does).
Then, when I've reduced her to a shuddering wreck of infatuation, I'll kiss her. Softly at first, looking into her Mongol eyes and telling her how hot this is. Slowly, we'll begin to passionately embrace each other, reveling in our retarded lust, succumbing to our long-suppressed desires.
I'll carry her to my bed, kissing her pale-white skin and caressing her troglodyte face while I maintain eye-contact with those soulless dead eyes of hers. She knows she's mine, now. As do I.
As we consummate our lust, our bodies sweating, my thrusts matching hers, her drool falling onto my stomach as she rides me, not entirely sure why it feels so pleasurable for her but unable to hold back even if she tried to, her moans would become ape-like roars of glorious, uncontained climax before she fell on top of me, cooing in my ear in that unintelligible dialect of hers. I would erupt furiously inside her, impregnating her mongoloid eggs with my seed, creating the Antichrist.
We would lay there for awhile, breathing heavily, giggling like teenagers who've discovered something new and forbidden, before regaining our stamina to go again, and again.
