The Hung Hitchhiker
An SPH Experience by blkshrimpyy. I’d seen him around campus before—tall, white, that kind of effortless confidence that comes from being good-looking and knowing it. He had a jaw that could cut glass, shoulders wide enough to block a doorway, and a cocky smirk that probably got him whatever he wanted. We’d nodded at each other in passing, never spoken. Until that night. I was sitting in my beat-up Honda Civic, scrolling through my phone, trying to figure out how
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