Page 9 of Pride

What mattered was standing in front of me in cut-off jean shorts and a pair of worn sneakers. Her hair was a matted mess, she was sunburned, and her once white tee shirt was stained from sweat and the blowing West Texas dirt.

Yet.

She looked beautiful.

In the end, it was my responsibility to not only recognize her as being so, but to make her feel that way. Taking a shower with her wasn’t the answer.

“I’m sure I could, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“I’m fresh out of prison, and you’re fresh out of a sexual assault. Neither of us are going to be able to make our best decisions right now. Let’s keep things simple between us, at least for now.”

“Okay.” With a content soft smile, she turned toward the bathroom. “That’s probably what’s best.”

As I watched her walk to the shower, I was amazed at how she could achieve the impossible. Somehow, Anna Marie Mc Cay raised the bar on just how hard my cock could get.

Keeping my hands to myself wasn’t going to be easy by any means.

But, then again, my life had never been easy.