BLURRY | SPRINA
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Pain narrows consciousness; pleasure blurs it.
"Trina, stop, we can't," Spencer mumbled as the female traced kisses down his neck. "Why can't we? Nothing is holding us back." She whispered as she traced his face with her manicured acrylic nails. His grip on her thigh tightened as he contemplate the urge to continue or stop their intimacy. "I don't want to use you." He whispered as he stared into her eyes. "I don't want this to be used as a distraction." He added softly.
"I don't want this to be a blur in the morning."
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