Willow's Couch
Tomboy domme bends her bisexual best friend over her lap.
I’m on my feet before my alarm even has time to reach its second chime. My bare soles slap against the cold hardwood floor as I pad across the hallway, half-running, half-tiptoeing. The guest bedroom’s door is still ajar, like I left it last night. I hold my breath, heart pounding in my throat, then peek in, risking a glance. Leo is there, this was not a dream. He sleeps soundly, which feels a little unfair considering I...