I drag my finger between your legs, feeling your heat and dampness as I watch your eyes glaze. Your mouth opens, little pants escaping your lips.I gla...ce down at your chest. The swell of your boobs hardly making an impression but your nipples betray you. Your pink nipples were always so sensitive. I can feel my own panties getting damp as I recall how you would whimper and arch your back as my teeth grazed the hard pink flesh.“You won’t tell, will you?” you whisper, eyes darting from left to. It was only noon, pretty early for her to be up on a Saturday when she didn’t get off work until 2:00 a.m. and sometimes scored a few bucks afterwards. “Jesus, Puss, you’re dressing like that to see your dad? You look like shit.” I was wearing my racerback tank and some baggy boxers I had stolen from her boyfriend, Jack, ones he’d used to wipe up his cum. I had washed them since. “Fuck him,” I said. “And watch your fuckin’ mouth.” I put the three slices of baloney on some rye bread and grabbed. More

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