Dead Batteries, Desperate Measures
Some lessons are learned the hard way. Some are learned the desperately, button-mashing, about-to-cry way.
I had one job. One simple fucking job. But I’m getting ahead of myself. There I was, finally alone after the longest week of my life. Roommate gone for the weekend. No surprise visitors. Phone on silent. I’d been edging toward madness since Monday, every failed attempt at privacy leaving me slick and aching between my thighs. I didn’t waste time. Kicked the door shut, yanked my jeans down, panties following in one gracele...