DON’T STOP
“You don’t know how to make a pussy wet. How to touch her until she’s dripping and trembling before you even slide inside. You’re too shy, too unsure. Girls can smell that.”
Her words hit me like a slap. My face burned. She was right. God, she was so right. Every failed attempt, every awkward date that went nowhere, every night I came alone while imagining things I’d never done. Embarrassment choked me. I fumbled in my pocket, pulled out a thick bundle of cash, almost everything I had withdrawn today, and dropped it on the table.
“I… I’m sorry for wasting your time,” I mumbled, standing up so fast my chair scraped loudly. I turned toward the door, briefcase gripped so tight my knuckles hurt.