“I don’t really know anything about you, you’re right. My hands are against her side, teasing with the waistband of her shorts. As I groan out she takes me in her mouth, flicking my helmet with her tongue before taking all of me. Any argument I lose anyway so I find it best to stay out of the way. “Not today,” she says as if reading my mind and I push the vision to the back of my mind. My hand still clutches my phone and I accidentally like the photo I’m looking at. Her back is arched, breasts flat to the bed and her butt raised towards me. Big Brother was indeed watching, albeit it he donned a ridiculous hairstyle and struggled to string a sentence together most of the time. For a moment the only sound is of our kissing, sloppy and frantic, tongues wresting with each other. I start having a browse on the social media sites to take my mind off what has just happened. We wash our hands a hundred times a day.
