It’s tattered, it’s broken, but it’s mine

Ohhh.. OH! Who am I to deny such a request?

You attempt to concentrate on the pages as you straddle the older man’s lap, your thighs on each side of his, the girth of him filling you up nicely as you rest your chin on his shoulder.

“Daniel…. I can’t do it anymore, please- just do something or I’m getting back to my work.” Your pitch a bit higher than usual as you struggle to get the words out. Hands trembling around the book in your hands, your chest pressed up against his.

“C’mon sweetheart, I asked you to do something for me. Keep reading, helps me write.” He says with a some feigned gentleness, rubbing his hand along your back to soothe you, but you can hear the condescending smile in his tone.

Fucking asshole.

You exhale slowly, sitting up to adjust your position and scooting yourself forward, snug against him.

Daniel lets out a sharp hiss, stiffening as pen drops out of his hand, clattering to the floor.

“Jesus kid, give a guy a warning.” He murmurs.

An idea festers.

“Daniel? Can I annotate this? I’ll still read it to you.” You ask sweetly, a hand leaving the book so you can thread your fingers through his hair, nails gently dragging against his scalp.

He lets out a groan, eyes closing as he nods,

Aftermath of a Photo Booth

Armand, manhandle the grandpa.