Hot Professor Is My Step Dad
The pink lace sat low on my hips, thin straps framing my ass, the front barely covering anything.
I turned side to side, heart already racing. Wrong. So wrong. But the wrongness felt like fire under my skin.
I grabbed my phone, angled it behind me, snapped a few shots, back arched, ass out, the pink string disappearing between my cheeks.
Then one from the front, my clothes not on yet, just the lace and my bare stomach.
My thumb hovered over the screen for a full minute. Courage. Or stupidity. I opened the contact card he’d given me yesterday, his private number saved as M and attached the photos. No caption, I just sent it as a view once.
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