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... . Then he guides my legs down his sides, until I’m standing on tiptoe, my back pressed hard against the tree. Slowly, inch by inch, his rough hands slide my clothes down. His thumb hooks through my panties, dragging them with my jeans.

Down my thighs.

Over my knees.

And he tosses my shoes and clothes off to the side.

I’d protest, but I’m too busy staring somewhere indecent to give a shit. Memories of our first encounter are fresh in my mind, playing on repeat.

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