Page 299 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

Each time, my pussy gets hotter, wetter,

blood pumping and swelling sweet in his mouth,

lips sealing over my clit,

tongue rolling underneath,

sucking slow.

Each time gets messier,

his hand gliding up to my chest,

palm spread over my heartbeat,

my fingers fisting his hair,

moan, beg, curse, hiss,

my slick clinging to his lips.

My gaze falling, his gaze rising,

eyes catching,

holding,

I come fierce.

Every time.

And he can’t leave

without licking his fingers,

without stuffing panties into his pockets,

without glancing back,

without his fucking smirk,

without leaving me heaving,

without texting: ‘that little look you gave me before you walked out? Yeah. That was the hottest fucking thing I ever seen’

without me hiding my throw up,

rushing to bathrooms,

folding over toilets,

trash cans, grass, back alleys,

brown paper bags in the backseat.

I wipe my mouth, still smiling.

And it’s like that for four days.