Betty
.
.
Sleep became impossible. Every time I shut my eyes, the same memory flashed through my mind. Trent’s body—how chiseled it was, his length, the red tip of his c**k. My body would shudder, and my p***y ached.
Guilt came, wicked and ruthless whenever I remembered that I had m*********d to him, the way his name rolled off my tongue.
This morning, I had woken up from another horny dream, my bedsheet soaking with my sweat, my p***y dripping and aching.
I pushed off the bed and headed towards the bathroom, where I washed off. I brushed my teeth and slipped into the bathroom.
The drops of warm water beat down my skin with rhythmic pressure. It felt like a gentle massage. And when I closed my eyes, an image of Trent holding me in the bathroom popped into my mind.
My body didn’t
