Damned if his hand doesn’t move up my thigh just a little farther.
“Um…” I try to think of something to say, anything at all that will make me sound witty and cute, like someone who works in a firm and not just a stock boy in a grocery store. Nothing comes to mind. I can’t begin to imagine what he sees in me, but I don’t want him to think I’m stupid just because I don’t wear suits or drive a car like this.
I remember the way his friends laughed at me, the remark the woman made about me being retarded. I flush just thinkingwhat they’d say if they saw us now, me in his car, his hand on my leg and inching closer to the erection aching at my crotch. I wonder what she’d have to say to that.
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