Megan was a tiny girl at five foot two. She had long curly brunette hair that she spent at least an hour every morning curling it into the exact waves...she desired. Her eyes were a hazel color, bright with curiosity. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, which often made her look younger than her twenty-two years.It was always the same, though – everyone was vanilla. Maybe her husband would be vanilla one day, too.She decided to spend the Saturday doing some shopping. She had probably had too much to drink. Hayato was grabbing the back of her head, turning her towards him, and kissing he on the lips. Time was syrupy and variable, the movement of his head to hers passing in a milisecond and the kiss lasting hours. She felt her hands go up to clasp the back of his head and hold him to her without her command or consent. She felt distantly alarmed that parts of her body were mutinying. Natsumi supposed she should try kissing back. After all, every other girl. More

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