DON’T STOP
Daisy
The rain hadn’t stopped; if anything, it sounded louder now, like the sky was trying to drown out whatever stupid thing we were about to do next.
Norman’s forehead stayed pressed to mine for a long beat, our breaths mingling—hot, uneven, tasting of sex and whisky and bad decisions. His cock in his pants was still rock-hard against my thigh, slick from my come and his own stained pre-cum, twitching every time my hips shifted even a fraction.