Lesbian Triangles #17

That's the first part. His hands land heavy on the back of my neck, skin hot, rough. Breath right at my ear. I can smell the Scotch, the cigarettes still on his jacket. The room's dark, curtains half-drawn, rain tapping the glass. He pulls my dress down in one fast jerk and the straps give easy. My tits spill out. He grins like he found a secret and he just might keep it.