He began to unbuckle his jeans and I felt my stomach turn. Dallas’ hands stopped fiddling with his tools. I texted them back that I got enough done to prove our point, and that I got caught up, but everything was A-okay. He smirked, “Teach you what?”
“How to be your whore.” Read 147300 times |
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A small part of my guilty conscience showed through, and a light was almost shined onto the fact I only subconsciously was aware of – I was doing this just to fit in. And of course I hadn’t noticed.
