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This one day, my little slut shows up on my door telling me how she has to have my cock ASAP.
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All of it culminated in me being a little on the cranky side when I crawled out of bed Thursday morning.
You know, it was Pete who helped me get your mom and Christmas dinner to your place last year?" The tension in my body let up a bit.
I risked opening my eyes to see him watching me while he discarded my pants and panties.
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Still searching for my identity.
Like King Tut's tomb.
I didn't sleep well that night due to the usual, boisterous theatrics of the oblivious couple in the next room.
When Chris had asked if I wanted to earn some extra cash, I hadn't expected it to be like a movie.
There were no words that seemed to satisfy what needed to be said.
"Dirk didn't say anything, and neither did you.
Repeating from back to front, weaving patterns he knew from memory.
The morning was just a constant repetition of trying to be a better salesperson than Chris.
I wondered if he was mad at me, though I could swear he had sat beside me on the bed at least twice, stroking my forehead and hair.
In back, there would be a simple stem down my spine connecting the parallel lines and a figure-eight weave at the top between my shoulder blades to secure the loose ends.