Ramona80

The second time, she didn’t emerge from the shadows to shout or run away: she came out with her dress open and said she’d been waiting for me for weeks.

When I saw the jogger stop by the open door, I knew we wouldn’t stop; she was already far too turned on to pretend at modesty.

I’d spent the whole morning in my robe, in front of the computer, until something moved behind the window of the block across the way and I knew that day would be different.

Three in the morning. A short nightgown. Nothing underneath. And the feeling that every park lamp was a curious eye, waiting for me to go one step too far.

I thought he was just as self-conscious as I was. Until he came out of the shower, dropped his towel half a meter away, and started drying himself as if nothing were wrong.

A peephole no bigger than a pea was enough to watch her ride naked on a white horse. Roderic made that hole—and could never close his eyes in peace again.

At eleven-thirty I went down to the laundry room with an excuse. She was turned away, and didn’t turn when she heard me come in. That changed everything.

One summer night, a bottle game among strangers on the beach and no intention of stopping. What happened next was far more than expected.