The bar roars with drunken appreciation for Pippa, and I watch as she gives the crowd a shy smile, hands the guitar off, and makes her way off the stage. Seeing her up there, it’s so obvious: I’m head over fucking heels for this girl, and I have been for a long time. A lot longer than I realized. Pippa Hartley has me wrapped around her little finger. I’ll do anything for her, and I’m not even mad about it. I want to do terrible things to her, make her come with my mouth and my hands and my cock, make her scream my name and show her how fucking incredible sex can be. I know sinking into her
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