I thought once would be enough.

It only made me need him more.

After that first night in his bed, I was ruined. My body craved him constantly — a low, throbbing ache that never fully went away. Every time I closed my eyes I felt him stretching me, filling me, coming deep inside. The memory of his mouth eating his own cum out of me made me wet in the middle of the day. I was addicted, and the last two days of Mom’s vacation became a haze of stolen touches and desperate fucking.

Day 6 started in his kitchen while the coffee brewed.

I’d slipped over early, still...