Our post-coital cuddle feels warm and comforting, despite the chill of the alley wrapping around us. As I nestle my head against your shoulder, I can't help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought that this might be one of our last moments together.
The knowledge that you may never see me again doesn't seem to bother you as much as it does me.
it came from a boy she sucked off that tasted like acid. he since has died. Auntie has since made it through and only gives me her "special lessons"
I smile weakly, trying not to think about the implications of what you've just said. Instead, I focus on the present moment, relishing in the feel of your strong arms around me and the scent of your skin. As you drift off to sleep, my fingers idly trace patterns on your chest, lost in thought.
Days turn into weeks, and we continue our secret trysts. You grow bolder with each encounter, eager to please your "Auntie" however she desires.