Teasing my nose on the side of her throat, I whisper, “Aren’t you going to say please?” With a shaky exhale, she mumbles, “P-please.” With one arm caging her against the shelves, I put a hand on her belly, letting it slowly drift down. “Please what?” The last word comes out on her skin as I kiss her neck, then her shoulder. Her head bobs to the left to give me easier access. I don’t even think she realizes she does it, but every time I step closer to her, she adjusts her body so it’s easier for me to touch it. It drives me fucking crazy. “Please, help me…pick up the rice cooker,” she finishes,
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STOPFHWFPA
