Fucking on the Top of the World

“I finally got us access to the roof,” I said one morning.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Why are we not there now?”

She had been hounding me for months, but it wasn’t like I could just sneak up when nobody was looking. It was a well-guarded retreat, and you had to get through M to even get a glimpse of it.

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Guy New York

Guy New York

Writer and publisher of dirty books. With more than 70 titles, my books have been widely read and occasionally burned. Read more at www.guynewyork.com