![]() To put it in the simplest of guy terms, I was backed up. With our busy schedules- Layla’s cheer practice and club meetings, and my heavy class load- it wasn’t easy to carve out time to take care of business. Okay, I didn’t actually give a damn about the essay. I had swung by Layla’s room after my last class, partly because I wanted to see how she had done on the essay I helped her with, and partly because it had been almost a week since we’d had sex. ![]() But I did hear it, and a series of events was set in motion that, like dominoes lined up just so on a gymnasium floor, would not be stopped. By all rights, I shouldn’t have even noticed the voice on the radio- because I was balls deep, her head was thrown back, and the headboard was tapping out a cadence of love on the dorm room wall. IRONICALLY, the thing that changed my life was the sound of the radio playing in the background while I was plowing my girlfriend on a Friday afternoon. Sign up for new release notifications at Ĭonnect with me at /marisblackbooks Who risk their lives and health in the Octagon For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Author: All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute or transmit in any form or by any means. ![]() Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.Ĭopyright 2015 by Maris Black. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. ![]()
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