sure i knew what i was doing.
parked off this country road near the creek i fished in once,
his truck was still on.
wipers going steadily,
radio on low.
i made a few moans
because thats what you do.
i nurtured the heavy breathing and foggy windows and
the idea that i was naked waist up.
he kept asking. and asking. and his hands were so busy.
finally, i told him i had never
felt anything like it
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment