Big Poppa
He bent her over the railing, pinned her to the tile, and fucked her until all she could scream was his name.
It was the kind of rain that didn’t stop, steady and relentless, driving most people home. The park was nearly empty, paths slick, restless dogs tugging at their leashes. Mine bolted ahead, splashing toward a tall man beneath the oaks with a dog of his own. That’s when I saw him. Blue eyes sharp beneath the dripping brim of his cap, shoulders squared against the drizzle as if weather didn’t touch him. My hood slid back, w...