I still can’t believe he just left me sitting in the bathroom like that. With my panties soaking wet, I was completely ready for a bit of insertion—or maybe a lot of insertion. I was half naked for crying out loud. To top it off, he said nothing on the car ride over. Foster just concentrated on the road, like it was his freaking job. Internal hormonal combustion may soon come forth in the form of rage, aimed directly at one Mr. Foster Blake, seated coyly to my right. I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing, but it’s definitely not kind, nor is it really like him. He’s not one to shy away from a quickie or an outside-the-bedroom slip in. I’ve got a serious case of girlie blue balls going on and I’m half tempted to run upstairs and finish myself off, since Foster seems to have no interest in doing so. He does like to tease me at times, but never has he left me completely hanging like this. He’s a closer. Tossing him a sidelong glance, I can’t help but grumble at his smug and proud appearance.
