“Thanks,” she muttered flatly, then made to get off of him. “I need to go now.” Even if it were sincere, she couldn’t trust him an inch, and she was becoming exhausted.“Ok,” he consented. “But wait.” He thought he saw a speck of warmth in her eyes and brought his lips down to gently touch against hers, seizing the moment for all it was worth.Revulsion sparked inside her as soon as their lips met and the alarm bells were deafening. She had to get away from this. His sweetness was all a sham. After all that he was just pretending. After all that he just wanted to take advantage of her desperate state and use her. Danger was very near, and she had to go. Right now.He saw the panic in her eyes at once. He tried to grasp more tightly onto her clothing, but her body twisted this way and that, squirming free. He couldn’t just let her go now though. He was elated at the news of her break-up, and wanted to at least have a celebratory fuck with the young girl before her mum got in. As his. There was the proverbial unspoken dialogue going on between us, as for some reason there was an attraction that day which had never surfaced in two prior years of acquaintance. But for some reason, on that cold day, something clicked and there was more subtext going on than actual talking. A pencil in a purse. A receipt from an ATM. A phone number written on the back of the receipt, with the mutual promise to get together one day. No mention of why. But that is where the subtext comes in. That was a weekday. I called her on the Friday of that week, and she said I should come by on Saturday night around 8:00 p.m. (her kids were at their dad’s place for the weekend), and we could watch a movie on television. Bull Durham. I remember the movie’s name, but I confess I don’t remember much about the movie. I came over, we watched, she made popcorn, we ate some of it, we talked and then somewhere during the movie, we ended up sitting closer together. Quite close. Me sitting on the floor with.
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