I burst out of the closet, the clean air outside of our sweat and hormones is a brutal reminder of what I just did. What if he had a fucking STD? We didn’t even use a condom. My God I can’t end up pregnant. Placing my hand on my chest, forcing myself to calm down as I turn to look at him, my dress sticking to my thighs from the perspiration. “Please tell me you’re clean.” I breathe, wincing as I try not to check him out while he pulls his pants up, zipping them and shaking a hand through his hair. Waltzing out of the tight space as if none of this bothered him.
