No place like home.

My hidden gems. The trouble I seem to get into...and no one even knows. When I go visit my family, it’s as if I revert back to high school, the thrill of sneaking out to meet someone no one knows about. The quickie between dinner plans and familial duties. It has become a tradition. Each time we are in the same small town we grew up in, we can't help but to reach out in the odd hours of the night and entice ourselves. It begins with an innocent text, a genuine curiosity. Then our deviance begins to crawl out. We begin sharing photos and stories of our fucks the year past. His are always particularly naughty. And all I want is another night of invisible, juvenile debauchery.

Eve LemeurComment