Grayson train
‘Night, Jacobs,’ he whispered in my ear. ‘Sweet dreams.’
‘Dream of me,’ I said back, my voice carrying in the tent’s silence. ‘Thanks for asking me to the party.’
‘You should come every Friday,’ he said. I wanted his words to have a double meaning. I wanted him to mean that he’d give me an orgasm like he had earlier every Friday night, but I didn’t want to get too ahead of myself. Maybe he’d do to me what he’d done to the others. ‘I like spending time with you.’
‘Well, not like I had any other plans,’ I replied, my heart rate no doubt giving me away as he’d placed his hand over my heart. Or maybe it was on purpose so he could touch my tit. ‘I like spending time with you, too.’
‘Night, Jacobs.’
‘Night,’ I hushed out, waiting for his breathing to slow down before I let myself fall asleep, too.
If my heart wasn’t already on the Grayson train, then that evening had solidified it as a lifelong ticket holder.
Until next time,
