Molly 1-844-332-2639 ext 449
The afternoon sun beat down on the crowded city park, and all my attention was focused on the few inches of shared space on our picnic blanket. Around us, distractions abounded; a group playing volleyball, dogs chasing frisbees. To anyone passing by, we were just two friends enjoying a lazy Sunday.
No one saw the way your bare knee was pressed firmly against mine; an unyielding point of contact that sent my groin throbbing.
You shifted closer, leaning back on one elbow under the shade of a massive tree. The movement caused your sunglasses to slide down the bridge of your nose, exposing intense eyes that locked onto mine. “It’s beautiful out here,” you murmured. Voice low enough that it was almost swallowed by the ambient chatter.
Your hand was doing the real talking.
With agonizing slowness, your fingers trailed up my calf, tracing along the edge of my clothes. My breath hitched, quiet intake that I forced myself to mask by taking a slow sip of my drink. The sheer thrill of the surrounding crowd made my skin prickle with electricity.
