If anyone asked that’s what she would tell them. Under a single sheet, body happily exhausted, Sharon was still at the motel. And still enjoying herself, even after the sex was done. At the moment she was laughing, to the point of tears, trying to keep breathing. “I’m telling the truth.” “You are not. You’re so full of shit.” Fritter looked comically wounded. “You’re mockin’ the story of my first love.” “You’re telling me you lost your virginity to your cousin when you were fifteen. How is that a love story again?” His grin was unapologetic. “The first girl that lets you touch her tits is the love of your life. Believe me.” “That’s disgusting.” “My youth or the incest?” She was cackling again. “I know every girl has the warm fuzzies for the guy who pops her cherry. It’s the same for us, but mostly with tits.” “You’re a pig.” He was up on one elbow, and she was trying not to fixate on how good his chest and arm looked in that particular position.
