––––––––
Adrian pulled into the parking lot at his apartment and took a moment to prepare himself before entering hell. The first week or so of living with Ellie had been torture but nothing he couldn’t handle. Now, he walked around in a constant state of arousal and it was all her fault.
Instead of wearing big, baggy sweats and an even baggier T-shirt with her breasts strapped down so tight by some kind of running bra or torture device that they didn’t even move, she pranced around the house in yoga pants and a spaghetti string tank top. He’d go to bed every night with his d**k talking to his bellybutton and a headache from his eyes bouncing back and forth between her t**s and her p***y. If he looked hard enough, he was pretty sure he could make out those p***y lips. f**k, he wanted to
