Dave lay collapsed on a pile of table fragments and cheap carpeting. Sweat covered his skin, and Tina was still perched on his hips, his d**k still inside of her. He held up his hand to block the overhead light. He stared at his ratty fingernail and the rough skin of the quick and the frayed hangnails. It’s how this whole evening had started, with him staring at his nails as he pressed the doorbell.
There had been a hot second when he had thought about his ex, and then he had been fully distracted by Tina. She had glossy dark hair that swung like a heavy silk curtain just above her shoulders. Her lips were pink. He was sure there was a special name for the kind of pink they were, but his brain was good with pink.
Her dark eyes twinkled in a way they never seemed to at work. At work Tin
