And there was. Kind of. Grass was soft, wasn’t it? Beebub had wanted to go on a picnic in the middle of the damn week. While I was working.
He just walked into the store, dragged me into a seriously hot kiss over the counter by the register, then announced to all and sundry that he was taking me out for a date that afternoon and they would have to do without me for a few hours. I had no choice in the matter. I was too embarrassed—and hard, to be honest—to demur.
Minutes later, Beebub’s d**k was up my ass, me on my hands and knees, on a blanket and facing a tree as he f****d me quick and dirty. I gave it back to him just as filthy half an hour later, and the fact that there were grass stains on our clothing and leaves in our hair didn’t seem to faze either of us one bit.
I went back to w
