Two weeks later I was in their kitchen with my dress around my waist and Evan’s c**k in me, and Nora’s key hit the lock.
He had texted she’s at her mother’s. I had come over like a thief who already had a key of her own. He didn’t kiss me hello. He looked at the dress, at my mouth, at the fact that I had locked my car and walked in anyway, and he turned me at the island before I could pretend this was a visit.
“Two weeks,” he said. “You didn’t text. You just showed up.”
“You said tomorrow. You didn’t say which one.”
He shoved my panties aside. They were already damp. He dragged his c**k through me, slow, from c**t to entrance, until he felt how wet I already was. The head caught. He held it there.
“You walk in dripping. You knew what this was.”
“Yes.”
He pushed in.
The stretch was
