All the while, my pelvis “accidentally” grinds against the edge of the counter. It was an accident. I think. I don’t know anything anymore. I let out a strained breath and back away from the counter, taking the icing with me. After I open the lid, I dip a spoon into the container and let out a relaxed breath. The chair looms close to me and a sudden image bursts into my head. Me. Rubbing up against it. Just like the counter. Only maybe this would be better. I step closer, changing my mind just as my crotch brushes against the wood. I suddenly back away, my face burning. I whip around. There
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god my poor girl
