"I am not," I protested."Oh yes you are," she said."It looks like somebody threw up on it," I pointed out."What were you going to wear?" she countered..."I dunno," I said. "Jeans? A button-down shirt?"She gave me a smug little smile."You'd have never gotten past the door," she said. "Dress code is seventies. Margie's got Mo sitting by the door for the first hour keeping out the undesirables."Maurice "Mo" Perra was probably the biggest guy in the school. He'd been in the baseball team picture last. Her hand reaches up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer to her. Her mouth moves to his, deepening the kiss, her tongue slipping into his mouth. His pace quickens. She could see the raw sensuality etched into his face as he drives deep, picking up the pace, thrusting into her, fingers digging into her hips, pulling her into him as if he couldn't wait to be buried to the hilt.Each long stroke taking her breath away, her lungs burning, her body losing control.. She could feel her. More

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