In the End
I'm a scamp, I know. I didn't tell Melanie where the strap-on came from. I didn't tell her Rylie had bought it, and we'd used it together. Who would want to know a thing like that? Melanie was special, and I wouldn't let some bleak misunderstanding over a dildo and harness stand in the way of our bright, budding future together.
She kissed me in her bedroom, up against the bed.
When she lifted her dress over her head, I asked, “Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”
An instant blush broke across her cheeks. “What makes you think I touch myself?”
I smirked. “Are you embarrassed? You? Ms. Tattoo?”
She glanced down her arms, at all the ink displayed on her skin. “I'm not embarrassed.”
“Prove it,” I said. “Touch yourself now.”
Her eyes widened the same way
