blush

“Don’t blush.”
She blushed. It was clear to try to hide it, but she was covered in the tell-tale marks of passion, her cheeks flushed, her gaze feverish, and her hair, plastered across her forehead, her nape, dripping with sweat. Upon looking at her, it was instantly clear where she had been, she knew it, and everyone around her knew it too. Still, when looking at her, they were embarrassed enough for her that they gave her some face, and pretended they knew nothing of it. So, she too pretended not to take notice of her state, holding her head up high as if nothing had happened.
Well, until now.
 
q

quartzink

TX

YWP Alumni

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