We do. That is to say, we will. Above all, he takes me in his vehicle, in obscurity, to a lake with a muddy edge. He kisses me and fastens his hand around my bosom, my areola hitching underneath his fingers. United Parcel Service Santa Claus riding Reindeer Christmas shirt. I am not genuinely sure what he will do before he does it.

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He is hard and hot and dry and scents like bread, and when he breaks me I shout and stick to him like I am lost adrift. United Parcel Service Santa Claus riding Reindeer Christmas shirt. His body locks onto mine and he is pushing, pushing, and before the end he hauls himself out and completes with my blood slicking him down. I am entranced and stirred by the musicality, the solid feeling of his need, the clearness of his discharge. A short time later, he droops in the seat, and I can hear the hints of the lake: crackpots and crickets, and something that seems like a banjo being culled. The breeze grabs off the water and chills my body off.

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I don’t have the foggiest idea what to do now. I can feel my heart thumping between my legs. It harms, however I envision it could feel better. I run my hand over myself and feel strains of joy from some place distant. His breathing winds up calmer and I understand that he is watching me.