Eric Dyer liked sex, any and all sex, and when he wasn’t doing it, he
was thinking about doing it, he liked
spooning in bed, doing it on all fours like beasts, he liked it missionary,
having a honey straddling him like a monkey on a stick.
He wasn’t fussy how or
where, whether mounting them roughly from behind, bondage or spanking, a bit of
oral, maybe the wheelbarrow, or a knee trembler against a wall.
All he asked was the recipient was at least a little animated when they were at
it, and not motionless like a resuscitation doll.
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