Dove sat between his legs for a few more seconds, trying to come up with any feasible reason she could stay there.
I want to sniff his balls. Just once.

He apologized profusely. “I knew that frog position was too freaky. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not that, Johnson. Did you notice that like every third thrust I was like a virgin? That was my asshole.” Dove put a hand on his shoulder.

I don’t think one stalker is allowed to call another stalker a stalker.

He shrugged and laughed a little. “It was a stupid idea. Who takes a girl to a funeral as their first date?”

Dove fought through her gown so she could find his hand and hold it. She wanted to lick it, too, but restrained herself. “You do. It would be my honor to go to this old fart’s funeral with you. Except pretend I said that like a person with a heart.

It couldn’t be good to want something this bad. Want someone this bad. I’m just me. Oh God. I’m me, and he’s him.

No, I was just thinking how much I like hearing you talk about numbers. It’s soothing.” Dove was tempted to lean her head back in a friendly way and clamp on his cock like a toothless, sucking pit bull.