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For my graduation present, my parents gifted me that classic four-door in a lovely shade of evergreen that looks like it has been in a couple of Monster Truck Rallies. It's paid off, runs well, and the insurance is dirt cheap, so I can't complain.
Pulled a sweatshirt and sweatpants on me.
Chris shut the door, kicked off his jeans, and crawled back into bed with me.
My only concern became easing your pain.
And now, their half-naked bodies were rolling all over the plush, suede cushions, the pillows discarded over the back of the couch and scattered on the floor. There were no words that seemed to satisfy what needed to be said.
He brushed my hair off my face. "Feeling better?" "Absolutely.