Sammy was stretched out on his bed with a pillow, in her long night shirt and flipping through the channels on his TV. She'd managed to find the on button and the remote. Her hair was still damp and falling over her forehead when she looked up at him sitting next nearby.
"I'm not going to try to make you talk," she said demurely. "What chance do I have against someone of your intelligence?"
(Read comments)
Post a comment in response:
scribbld is part of the horse.13 network
Design by Jimmy B.
Logo created by 
hitsuzen.
Scribbld System Status
