Tag Archives: bacalar

It was hot and the thin linen sheets stuck to the curve of Brent’s ass. The ceiling fan weakly stirred the air with. Any faster, and it would wobble and creak with every turn. That wouldn’t let Brent sleep. So he turned it low, low as it could go, before he tried to fall asleep. Laura asked him to turn it on full blast. He told her to listen to all that squeaking. She rolled on to her side away from him. Continue reading →