Dante
A warm (Yes WARM) February afternoon in Florida
It’s February, and it’s 77 degrees in Florida. Sunshine warms my body like my lover’s tongue when he’s hungry. It's winter, the humidity is low, and as long as the wind doesn't pick up, I'm warm. I called Dante. I call him my bull because, well, he's hung like one. He’s not my boyfriend. He’s married, and I’m his white side-piece. He let himself in, came through the house, and opened the sliding back door. He smiled when...