Pagan
She loved playing with names and men. By day she was simple and demur, but when the sun went down, she was a vixen with an appetite for the unspeakable. This wasn’t the first time I chose to be her toy, nor would it be the last. Once, we used a red velvet rope, another time we ended up pressed against a glass window seven stories up for all the world to see, and even more salacious, was the time in the park on 4th street in broad daylight. I’ll never look at that park bench the same again.
Tabitha's Tales 005
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