“They saw your come drenched on my hands, on that chair and on the floor. I swear you could fill a half-gallon empty milk container. When was the last time you got off anyhow?”
“Last night,” he rasped, his voice hoarse for some reason as he lied. Why was she making him uptight? It wasn’t like this bitch knew anything about him and his life.
She was staring at him, watching him move around.
It made his gut threaten to replace his lungs, it was that knotted and unsettled in his body.
“Holy God, you came last night, and that much shit came out of you?” She shook her head. “If I hadn’t watched you do it, I would’ve thought it was a trick. Like you’d used the lube to make it look like more, or maybe even the water from the bottle on that table nearby.”
He coughed to clear his throat, but it didn’t help. “Speaking of which—be a good little bitch and go fetch me a drink. I’m thirsty.”
“You forgot to grope my tits first, you dickhead.” She grinned. “I’m not here to be your bitch. I’m here to make sure you’re okay.”
*Oh, he's so much fun...*