by Deanna Davidson Copyright ©2026 Tinted windows and soft sherpa blankets, heat rising in the enclosed space. Breath fogging the windshield. Fishnet clad thighs resting against the folded backseat. Arching forward, legs apart. Bulge pressing against my back. Hard wood, gentle strokes tearing me at the seams. Fingers wrapped in dark tendrils, head resting upon broad shoulders. Panting moans, promises made in the depths of our souls. Entwined limbs and black lace. “Fuck.”