When he's finally satisfied himself that he explored every inch of denim covered ass his right hand slipped up under the lower hem of mymy sweatshirt ...nd deftly cupped my left breast, squeezing the fleshy mound lightly before moving on to the right one. I placed my palms againsthis chest and pushed him away from me. Then, grabbing the bottom of my sweatshirt I quickly pulled it up over my head and stripped it away.He buried his face in my cleavage and began to nuzzle my tits through the fabric. I painstakingly waxed my snatch. I changed my clothes, brushed my hair, dabbed on his favourite perfume. I put on a Frank Sinatra album.Things hadn’t been good for over a week. Maybe the silence between us was what had prompted me to open the present. It wasn’t even about the present. It was about attention. I told myself this coldly. I was an attention whore, always had been, and always would be. And not brave enough to ask for the attention. I wasn’t the kid who put myself forward to be Mary. More

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