“What was it like?” Tristian asks, and looking up, I realize his eyes are just as dark and hooded as mine. His hand is in his pocket, but I can tell he’s rubbing his dick. He elaborates. “Fucking her, taking her virginity.” I look back down at her rosy nipples, thumbing the button on my jeans. “Tight,” is my answer, not even bordering on sufficient. “Soft. Wet. She fought a little at first, but I knew she was into it. Scratched my back up a bit when she came.” He makes an indistinct sound. “So it was good?” “It was good.” Lower, I tell him, “She was good for me.”
