Forty-love
2004·22 min·90% liked·7.1K Views
Silvia wasn’t bad on the court, but I took the last point anyway. Forty-love. Match over. She didn’t look disappointed. When I reached for her hand she stepped in, slipped her tongue past my teeth and pressed her hips to mine. Breath hot against my mouth, she whispered that the next game would follow her rules. The sun caught the sweat on her shoulders. She stepped back, smiled, and waited for me to say yes.
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