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digging through his dresser across from the bed. Top
drawer is just his socks and underwear. The next couple of
drawers are just his shirts and sweatpants. His closet has his
blue jeans and some button ups that are nicely ironed. Not
one single wrinkle. He has his shoes lined up by color. He
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has two pairs of blue shoes,three pairs of white shoes and
two pairs of black shoes.
Nothing. I found nothing. People hide what they don’t
want people to see in their underwear draw, right?
I’ve looked all over the house to find any secrets that he
has been hiding. I still don’t know anything about him.
Besides his name and that he was meeting with his dad.
Like for god’s sake, there is no way a man that fucking
hot, has no fucking issues or no fucking secrets. I may be
wanting to find something to make sense of everything. I
might be the problem. I plop down on my back onto the bed and huff.
“Vincent Aramani! What are you hiding?” I say out loud.
I look over to the nightstand and I pull open the drawer
and there are a couple vibrators sitting in there.
“What the fuck,” I say aloud.
Why would he have these? Most of them are still in the
wrapper. When I look at them I start to think about Vincent.
Thinking of the way his hand slid up and down my legs.
The way he looks with no shirt on. The way he pulled my
face closer and trailed his lips from my neck to my
forehead. Everything that man does makes my pussy wet.
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I want to feel free. I want to have the pulsing sensation in
my pussy again, like when I kissed him. Just thinking about
