This was our last Friday.
Marcus was moving to another city in two days. We both knew it. No promises, no long-distance bullshit — just one final night to f**k each other senseless.
The bar was packed for his going-away happy hour. Music thumped, people laughed, drinks flowed. I showed up in a short black dress that barely covered my ass, no panties, no bra. My n*****s were already hard the second I walked in.
Marcus saw me and his eyes went black with hunger. He poured my drink without a word, but when he slid it over, he leaned in close.
“Back office. Ten minutes. Don’t make me wait.”
I sipped slowly, thighs pressed tight, already dripping. When the crowd was loudest, I slipped through the staff door.
He was waiting.
The second I stepped inside the small back office, Marcus locked
