“Do you want to hear my condom story?” “Absolutely,” he says. I free my arms so my fingers can play in his hair while he gives my breasts the attention they deserve. “I don’t remember how old I was, but I was too young to know anything about condoms. I found my dad’s stash in his closet when my grandma was babysitting me and my brother. So I showed her the box, and she told me to put them back. When I asked her what they were, she told me they were what my dad used on lucky days.” Ozzy rolls us so we’re facing each other on our sides, heads propped up on our arms, legs tangled in our partially
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