One last stroke on her pinky nail, then she sets the polish down and falls back onto the bed, feet still in the air on the stool. The motion lifts her shirt just enough to reveal her black lace panties and the crease of her groin. It's a miracle my mind is preoccupied with other problems right now; otherwise, my vow to never touch another woman besides Isabelle would already be crumbling. It's hard to stay composed with someone like Brianne practically half-naked in front of me.
Maybe she's too distracted by her worries to even notice... or maybe she's doing it on purpose to mess with me? Some women get a weird thrill out of fucking happily married fathers… well, I'm not a father yet, nor married, but I guess it's the same thing. Shit… if I'd known, I would've lied to her months ago — told her I had a kid and a loving wife, and she'd have handed me her pussy on a silver platter.
