cigarettes, the taste of your whiskey lips
"Well if it isn't sausage-boy." Came a sharp voice from behind the bookmaker.
If he turned, he'd see Edy dressed quite simply and casually, arms crossed and one hip jutted out to rest sensually against one of the trees. On her face was a particularly shit-eating grin as she stretched out a hand, her movements languid and easy, and a strand of fire appeared and flit through the air to swirl above Sam's pile of clothes.
"Y'know when I was just a kid, we used to dare each other to go skinny dipping in this real cold lake. Now if you were brave, you'd just buck the fuck up and dive right on it. If you were smart though, you'd steal the clothes of anyone that you really hated and make 'em walk home with their balls cupped in a hand."
If he turned, he'd see Edy dressed quite simply and casually, arms crossed and one hip jutted out to rest sensually against one of the trees. On her face was a particularly shit-eating grin as she stretched out a hand, her movements languid and easy, and a strand of fire appeared and flit through the air to swirl above Sam's pile of clothes.
"Y'know when I was just a kid, we used to dare each other to go skinny dipping in this real cold lake. Now if you were brave, you'd just buck the fuck up and dive right on it. If you were smart though, you'd steal the clothes of anyone that you really hated and make 'em walk home with their balls cupped in a hand."
still haunting my every kiss
