“Use your words, tell me what you need,” she says, looking at me with that goddamn smile that gets me even harder; if that's possible. “Fuck you,” I say, adding a quiet, defeated, “Touch me, please,” a few seconds later. This is a scene I’ll involuntarily replay in my head for the next few weeks, and not because I’m proud of it. “Well, if you ask so nicely,” she says as she wraps her hand around me again.
