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Whoever decided running is a good form of exercise can go straight to hell.
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I’m a stubborn bitch, and there’s nothing I love more in life than proving a man wrong.
“Do what? Contemplate the necessity of men’s existence? It’s pretty easy; I think society would function just fine without them. Think of how well the world would run if women were in charge.”
“Thanks for the fuck the patriarchy pep talk, but I meant exercising. It’s excruciating.”
“I love being on my ass, believe it or not. I prefer it when I’m getting something good out of it, like, you know, an orgasm. Not more pain.”
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“Knock it off. We’re not here to have a dick measuring contest.”
“Probably for the best. Mine is bigger,” Rhett says.
My buddies are the only ones who know about my secret side gig moonlighting as an audiobook narrator.
“I’ve run out of reasons why Jada can’t listen to the books she loves. I sound like a controlling husband.” Rhett scowls at me. “I don’t know how to tell my wife I don’t want her to hear my best friend tell her to take it like a good girl.”
What’s your name?” “Margo Andrews. Today is December eleventh. I’m twenty-four years old. I can’t believe people think running is fun, and I feel like I’m dying.”
“Someone had to be at the finish line wearing an obnoxious sweater to catch you when you fell.” “Okay. Easy there, buddy. This isn’t the start of some love story.”
Some people consider my time slow.” “Who? Cheetahs?”
He had some gray in his hair, and what was left of my soul almost left my body when he winked at me.” Dark eyes. Scruff on his cheeks. His long legs and his height—he had to be at least six-three. His deep laugh and the curve of his smile.
“Nah. I keep all my dick pics on a burner. You might be too young to know this, but back in my day, phones used to flip open.”
I bet he could find my clit within four seconds, a trait guys my age simply don’t have.
“Your son didn’t know how to fuck me.” Margo brings her mouth close to mine. “Do you think you will?”
“Baby, when I’m finished with you, you won’t be able to walk straight. I’ll give you exactly what you need.”
She stands, eyes locked on mine. “Then what the hell are we...
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“You know I’m a man, Margo. Take off your underwear so I can show you I know what to do with my tongue.”
What do you think, Margo? Where does the dirty slut want to ride her ex-boyfriend’s dad’s cock?”
You snore in your sleep. Come to the kitchen when you wake up. Fa-la-la-la Finn
“Good boy,” she murmurs, and I almost come on the spot.
I’m going to hell. There’s no way I make it through the pearly gates now, not when I’m down here about to fuck myself with a Christmas ornament while a man I barely know watches me. Jesus is probably rolling in his grave because of what a ho-ho-hoe I am.
Rules are meant to be broken, Margo, and I don’t think three hundred and one nights with you would be the worst thing in the world.”
“I think you killed me. I got through the run just fine this morning, so it makes sense I’d meet my demise with your pussy.”
I want to see him in the spring when the weather turns nice and the snow melts, and that is a terrifying thought I’m not sure how to voice.
bet I look like a sleep deprived raccoon who keeps getting railed by the hot older guy so she can’t catch up on not being exhausted.”
It’s not weird. It’s not creepy. We met. She didn’t know who I was. We spent time together, and we like each other. We’re adults. It’s consensual. Keep your comments to yourself, or say them to me. Not her.”
Holy angel on top of the Christmas tree. Forget role-playing. That was the hottest thing a man has ever done on my behalf.
