Lipstick Hearts

Daffni Gingerich


He’s got his hands down my pants in the chip isle. I just wanted potato chips and dip but he wants more. And he’s the only one with the digits to spin me up that way in public. We had a couple drinks. I chose the ones I knew we couldn’t afford just to see how many he’d let me drink. He’s sloshy drunk and I’m prestigiously drunk since my drinks were more expensive. I don’t trust him but I stick around hoping for something that doesn’t exist, philosophically speaking. Nothing like waking up from getting pleasurably fucked by someone who doesn’t exist. But the way he curls his fingers inside me. And how his eyes stare into my soul. The darker flecks are the ones that get me. I want to poke them with my finger nail but I usually get distracted before executing that whole thing. One minute…

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