I’m mad at Tiffany for leaving you like that.”“She was drunk, drunk girls like to have sex with strange men.”“Well, it’s still not an excu...e.”“Don’t be mad, baby,” I tell him, resting my head on his shoulder.“Wow, you really are drunk,” he rolls his eyes.“I’m not drunk!” I cry indignantly, “All that sitting around waiting for you sobered me up,” I tease.“Ha ha,” he rolls his eyes again, “I guess you’re not as drunk as I thought.”“No, I’m not,” I tell him seductively. I place my hand on his. My chest rising and falling, my mouth wide open, my whole body much more relaxed. He grinned again. I didn’t grin back. I wanted more. “Fuck me.” “Next time.” “Please. I don’t care about anything else.” It was true. I didn’t care about the consequences. I just wanted to feel him inside of me. I wanted to make him cum. “Trust me I want to, but we can’t.” I didn’t want to take his answer, but I knew he was right. I sat up and stroked his cock. I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anyone. More

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