White Boy Summer At Phucket

The memory surfaces uninvited—late, humid, my sheets already tangled from waiting. I'd left the window cracked, city sounds drifting in, when I heard his footsteps in the hall. Didn't text back. Just unlocked the door and lay back on the white sheets, skin flushed, heart hammering.<br><br>He entered quiet, smelling of smoke and street air. No words, just his weight on the mattress, his mouth finding my throat, his hands rough and immediate. I laughed once, nervous, but he swallowed the sound with a kiss, fingers sliding between my legs, testing how ready I was. Embarrassingly wet. He knew.<br><br>He pushed my legs back and slid in, thick and hard, and I cried out because he filled me completely. He pounded into me rough and deep, folding me in half so my knees pressed near my ears. I gripped the sheets, mouth open, completely lost in how deep he was going. He flipped me onto my stomach and I was face-down, ass up, while he slammed into me from behind. My face pressed into the pillow, d

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