She smiled wider and it was killer. She appeared to be mid 40’s and incredibly natural in every way. A unique tawny and freckly complexion with sexy...speckles coating her big, saggy chest, and short, clean nails, drumming against her beer. And her sexy blue eyes were glassy and suggestive and completely and curiously locked to mine. She tilted again and filled her mouth with beer, but her eyes never moved.“What are you doing sitting in the corner all alone?” I asked, trying not to look at her. I can only sit here and rock back and forth while my muscles tremble incessantly. And I hate myself. Hate myself for being so weak and not being able to control these fucking feelings.She's coming down the stairs and walking around the sofa, "I got worried when you didn't come up and- Sam?" My eyes feel hot and messy, and I can feel them prickle, and when I say her name it comes out all mangled and broken.She's hugging me, rocking back and forth with me and she's terrified. Because I'm supposed. More

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