ARES
I make it to my car before I punch the steering wheel.
"f**k!"
The sound echoes in the enclosed space, sharp and frustrated and completely inadequate for what I'm feeling.
My c**k is so hard it hurts, straining against my jeans in a way that's almost painful. My entire body is wound tight with frustrated arousal, every muscle tense with the effort of walking away.
I can still taste her on my lips, that unique flavor that's just Isabel. I still feel the softness of her skin under my hands, I could still hear the little gasps and moans she made when I kissed her neck and I walked away because she asked me to and also because she's right, the deal has to come first but Jesus Christ, it was the hardest thing I've ever done and I've done a lot of hard things.
I’ve survived foster car
