My Steamy Story: , zmagający się z rozpadającym się z...

My Story Time:

Okay, bestie, buckle up because I’m about to spill the tea on some seriously messy main character energy I had last night. My situationship with Oliver was basically on life support, and the vibe was a whole big yikes. We were at this boujee bar, and I could see him across the room looking shook, low-key drowning his sorrows over his failing thing with Sara. So I made my move. My rizz was on a hundred, no cap. I slid onto the stool next to him, my hand on his thigh, and was like, "Forget her. Let me be your distraction." The way he looked at me? Sheesh. So thirsty. One tequila shot later, my lips were on his neck and I was whispering all the spicy things I was gonna do to him. We practically yeeted ourselves into an Uber. Back at my place, it was a whole different level. I pulled his dick out right there in the hallway, my mouth all over him before we even made it to the bed. I was high-key in my element, riding his cock like my life depended on it, his hands gripping my ass, my pussy so wet for him. I was moaning, "Fuck, Oliver, you feel so much better than her," and his eyes just rolled back. It was iconic, messy, and OMG, I have zero regrets. Period.