They’re both what can only charitably be described as “tipsy” – she can smell the alcohol on his breath, and is under no illusion that hers is any different. He smells of beer and fresh sweat and a bit of something else that makes her think of campfires. His skin radiates heat as she unbuttons more »
A day off. A day he could, guilt-free, spend with his lover who wouldn’t call him more than that. No need to worry about being alert when he went on his shift, late evening.
Hands ran over her body, and Aretta moaned quietly, leaning into the touch. She couldn’t see his face, but his voice, urgently whispering compliments as his hands played with her small breasts, was to die for. He leaned in closer, his tongue teasing one of her nipples, and she sucked in a sharp breath, her more »
<<< Go back to Can I Buy You a Drink? “Pretty as you are when you’re sleeping,” a voice murmured, intruding on a dream about nothing in particular, “I have a meeting to not be late to, sweetheart.” “Uhm?” was Aretta’s profound reply, as she blinked herself out of sleep.
She had just been leaving the dance floor for a glass of water; she’d spent enough time in the hot, just-this-side-of-crowded club for her shirt to sport a damp shadow below her breasts, and a few stray strands of brightly colored hair were plastered against her forehead. It was pure chance that she’d notice the more »