To be perfectly honest, she was kinda right about that too. Somehow she got me to cave into going, maybe it was the constant whining and begging that ...ot me to go or maybe it was the fact she bought me a new book every day for a week. Whatever the reason, I ended up telling her I would go. Opening night snuck up faster than I was ready, all of a sudden I was being forced to squeeze my body into a pair of leather leggings, pulling on a fishnet crop top that exposed the red lace bra I was wearing. “Good girl.” “That’s right.” “Let yourself enjoy this.” At any other time, if a guy said something like “good girl” to me, I would have told him to fuck off...at least. But in my current state of surrender, I found his words thrilling. A little jolt of pride ran through me each time I heard them.Again, my recall of some details that evening is spotty, yet some parts remain very, very vivid to this day. I quite clearly remember Andi lifting her head from between my legs and saying with a broad. Anybody who could have done it to her would have controlled her body and soul. The inside of her head exploded in a white light and she knew the joy of Christmas, Thanksgiving, New years, every party she had ever attended, every boy she had ever kissed, everybody she had ever loved and every fine meal she had ever eaten, all rolled into one. It took her in a crashing wave of ecstasy that left her gapping like a fish out of water for the full half a minute that the text had promised. Then her. Eric was right. She was curious. She did want to know what another man felt like inside her. And he was right about that one other thing as well. She did want it, much more badly than she had realized. It had become the central focus of her dreams now as it had been last night. Yet it was so bizarre, so unbelievable that she would even entertain the thought, let alone go through with it... yet Eric was also right that she would not get it from Michael. He's right, she thought. If I can't get it.
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