the rooms thick with smoke. thereās a feint glow of the blunt passing between us as we are lolled on the couch. youāre giggling, eyes glassy, already half-fucked-up, but iām obsessed with watching you lose it. ātake another hit,ā i say, pressing it to your lips as you pause. you inhale deep, your tits rising under your shirt, lashes fluttering. āone more,ā i urge, handing it back, and you obey, fingers shaking as you suck it down. i keep going, ācome on, another,ā until your giggles die, your body slumping into the cushions, too stoned to move, your mind a sloppy, blank mess. youāre out of it now, eyes rolled back, breathing shallow, and i lean in, growling how fucking hot you look like this. i slide my hands under your shirt, groping your tits, feeling your nipples harden as you moan softly. its too easy, knowing you canāt protest. you canāt think, canāt fight, just a wet, needy whimper slipping out as i yank your pants down, spreading your thighs to find you dripping. itās crazy how your body can betray you in such waysā¦