The women's washroom in the Grand Mall was a tight, fluorescent-lit cage, the white tiles shining under the harsh lights. The faint drip of a faucet and the distant murmur of shoppers were drowned out by the raw, heated sounds of our breaths, the air thick with the musky scent of
Sara straddled me on the toilet seat, her skirt bunched around her waist, completely naked from below, her black stockings taut against her thighs, her panties discarded on the floor, her jacket open, her t-shirt clinging to her curves.
My jeans and underwear were pulled down, my long black shirt and t-shirt rucked up, my white sneakers scuffing the tiles as I gripped her ass, my dick buried deep inside her wet leaking hole, the heat of her pussy enveloping me.
Aeri waited back at the restaurant, her furrowed brow a guilty shadow in my mind, but Sara's fire consumed me, her earlier threat—those sex clips.
