I Made Him Worship My Touch
An SPH Experience by athletiphile. It was Friday night, and the party at Tyler’s place was already packed. Beer pong in the backyard, bodies grinding in the living room, and that thick haze of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume hanging over everything. I’d been nursing a solo cup of vodka-cran for an hour, trying to forget what I’d seen Nate do earlier that week — the asshole grinding on some sophomore at another house party like I didn’t exist. My
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