“Jack,” I said, “don’t let her steal anything expensive.” Without another word, I opened the front door and walked out. She peered at me with one eye, half her face buried in the mattress, and gave me a small smile. “It was comfortable, though. She was comfortable. “Phoebe is fine.”
I nodded and gave her a weak smile. I told her to leave and lock the door on the way out. My cock pulsed, and we both felt white ropes of warm semen coat the walls of her pussy. I, on the other hand, was an analyst in New York who made a high five digits. Dillon’s uncle was a member of the NYPD. Seeing people on their phones, typing away at their laptops, or feeding their kids reminded me that there were billions of people in the world who neither knew nor cared that my heart had just been broken.
