What is this stuff?” Jeff rubs his fingers over the top of my cheap-ass, dime-store mule.
“Naugahyde,” I say, pushing my shoulders back, showing off my conical boobs and my pink fuzzy sweater.
“Nauga-what?” It does not escape my notice that his finger briefly slips beneath the band of fake plasticine
leather to stroke my bare skin. His touch sizzle-pops up my calf, burns a line of fire behind my knee and tickles slowly up my inner thigh. The sensation lands with a lazy, warm flex in my p***y.
Nether lips fat with blood and slick with juices are forcing me to straighten my legs and sharpen my focus.
We have a costume party to get to. We have a hopefully future-boss for me to woo. We do not have time
for…dirty things.
“Naugahyde.”
“Never heard of it.” His hand circles my ankle lik
