SINNER
LEAH
I tell myself that what I’m doing is wrong and that it will most likely put me on the fast track to hell, but no matter how much my guilty conscious screams at me, it doesn’t stop my leg from hiking up. I rest it on the desk in front of me and press my aching p***y against the rounded corner that I’m now dry-humping like a f*****g hussy.
Satan has won this round.
Again.
He seems to be winning a lot these days. I shove the thought aside and grind myself harder against the wood, feeling like I’m going to burst if I don’t c*m soon. I peek through the blinds of the Sunday school room where I teach and watch Mr. Bancroft walk to his sexy black jeep. Knowing he’s going to be out of sight soon, I rock my hips harder, biting my lip to keep from groaning when I feel the beginnings
