The worst memories stick with us, while the nice ones always seem to slip through our fingers.
What if I was the sexual equivalent of popcorn? Suitable for light snacking only?
Chocolate says "I'm sorry" so much better than words.
Sneak out." He shrugged, as if that should have been a no-brainer. But that was easy for him to say. He was dead. What else could they do to him, take away his birthday?
My hands wrapped around his waist, traveling up the broad expanse of his back, mooth and hard, and... "Give it a rest, already," Tod snapped from somewhere behind his brother. "It already smells like sex in here, and you're both still dressed. You ha...
Until then, I would pretend my ankle was made of steel, like some kind of bionic joint, and that I could feel no pain. I was superhuman. I could do anything. But I'd take some Tylenol, just in case. Lots of Tylenol.
