Hell, the memory of my fingers buried in that juicy pussy might haunt me for the rest of my life.

“You want to hear about how much I have to jack off in the shower thinking about you? What is it, Hazel?”

He smiles, slow and wide. “You’re wet.” “No shit.” He presses his forehead to mine, dipping two fingers beneath the scrap of fabric covering my pussy. He wastes no time, plunging his thick middle finger inside me. My entire body goes rigid and hot.

when she’s within arm’s reach, she needs to be in my arms.

My entire body is Jell-O, and I’m not sure I could stand if I wanted to.

It’s not too cold for shorts, which we’re all wearing, but it’s that perfect combination of chilliness and summer. Hoodie and beer weather. Like fall, except warmer and with a later sunset. Best damn time of the year.

the foyer. Staring at each other with so much restrained emotion I’m not sure if the next words out of my mouth will be “fuck you” or “fuck me now.”

God, I just need him in me. Fingers, cock, anything.

And people think I’ve got my shit together. I can’t even ghost correctly.