I woke up slowly the next morning, the kind of slow where your body remembers everything before your brain catches up. Sunlight slipped through the curtains, hitting the bed right across my stomach. My skin felt warm all over, but not just from the sun, as there was this sticky, used-up heat clinging to me from last night.
I could feel it everywhere, along with dried patches of Hunter’s c*m that flaked lightly across the tops of my breasts where he’d shot those thick ropes. Between my thighs was the worst, or best, kind of mess. Kyle’s load had leaked out overnight, mixing with my own wetness, leaving everything crusty and tacky on the insides of my legs. Even my stomach had faint streaks that had dried into thin white lines. I ran a finger through one of them, feeling the rough texture,
