![]() ![]() My beaver was getting unruly, and I wasn’t sure how tonight would go. ![]() “I didn’t have time to make an appointment with my waxer because you sprang the date on me. While staying still is killing me, an explanation is necessary. He’s an inch shy of my clit on either side. “It’s not what it looks like.” In saying this, I’ve made it seem like exactly that.Īlex’s body is rigid aside from the twitching corner of his mouth and the pressing of his thumbs into the juncture of my thighs. I gesture to the horrible mark in a flaily, manic way. I can see how he might mistake it for a hickey. In my lust-induced haze, I forgot the ugly bruise from yesterday evening’s impromptu waxing session. ![]() It’s my naked beaver he’s angrily eyeing. The fog from my orgasm-induced euphoria begins to clear. His fury-similar to what I’ve previously witnessed only when he takes someone down on the ice-feeds the hockey hooker in me. I whimper, the sound drawing Alex’s attention to my face. No discoloration there other than the usual blotchiness that’s a result of being sexed up. It’s a fruitless action you can’t feel hickeys, you can only see them. Confused, I touch my neck, feeling around for the hickey. Alex’s expression reflects nothing of the blissful serenity I’ve been rocking up until now. ![]()
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