Roughly on the Stairs
Anger leads to sex
I lean over the kitchen table, the vein in the middle of my forehead about to burst. An old t-shirt covers my agitated muscles and blue jeans hug the lower half of my body. You stand across from me, your arms folded over your chest, your weight shifting to your right leg. Normally, I would notice your tight, blue top and short skirt, but not right now. "I told you we couldn't afford it, yet you bought it anyway," I glar...