Dirty Girl
There’s a fine line between disgusting and divine.
Burning desire never blazes in broad paths, it streaks with furious intensity along tightropes. Not that I had a burning desire for Avril at first. We were colleagues, briefly. Avril came to work at my firm, but she was merely there for a summer job while on break from uni. In the office, she was curt, a little waspish even. That was off-putting. But because we were both in our twenties, we’d hang with a young group of co...
