Page 52 of Petite Fleur

Well, fuck, tonight just got a lot more exciting, for sure.

I assumed Maeve would stay in tonight, enjoy her cake, watch a horror movie, and go to bed early.

Boy, was I wrong.

She and a handful of other girls and that male roommate all came out of their apartment dressed to party, and let me tell you, my girl looks damn good.

She has on a beautiful knee-length white lace dress with spaghetti straps and a “V” shaped neckline that goes past hersternum, a pair of sandals that tie around her ankles with thin brown leather straps, and for once, her hair is down.

She looks heavenly.

Her gorgeous brown hair is in thick and full waves with only a few small pieces braided to keep everything out of her face, and I can't stop picturing myself wrapping her hair around my fist and using it like a bull rope while I fuck her into next week.

Or maybe those goofy ass space buns that I could use like handlebars while I fuck her throat until she's drooling and begging for mercy.

I have to shake these thoughts out of my head before I drag this fucking goddess into the bathroom at whatever bar they're going to, but the sight of my girl with mascara streaming down her face and my cock in the back of her throat is now branded in my mind forever.

You know, watching these girls pile into a few different cars is making me wonder why Maeve is the outcast of the group.

She's clearly the hottest one!

All Carlie has that Maeve doesn't is the tits, but Maeve has the ass.

She has a nice thick ass that I want to dig my teeth into until there are marks on her skin forever.

Fuck, now I really am a pervert with a boner watching a group of college girls go off to party.

Fantastic.

I watch as these girls stare at Maeve; I see them whispering to each other while she ignores them altogether. I think they're jealous.

I see how everyone on campus stares at her; I see how people gravitate toward her so naturally and that her timid demeanor and her loud ass friends are all that keep them away.

Everyone can see and sense how incredible she is; they just don't like it.

It's sad, really. It’s embarrassing for them that they feel they have to dim my Maeve to make themselves look better.

They're not wrong; they could never shine and stand out with my girl beside them, but I could never do the same.

I could never dim my beautiful girl. She's a light that the world deserves to see.

She not only deserves to be admired, but I deserve to show off that I'm with the hottest woman in Texas.

When everyone is piled in their row of cars, and they take off toward wherever I'm about to spend my night, I follow a few car lengths behind.

I follow each twist and turn as they go, landing us at some Mexican-American style restaurant.

You know the type, the ones that aren't at all authentic, but they are delicious.

What I can't figure out is why we're here. Nothing at this place is suitable for my Maeve.

I've been here before; not a single item on the menu is without cheese, meat, grains, or lard.

Nothing my girl ever eats.

I could tell myself that her friends have taken her diet into consideration, but I know they're too careless and shallow to have bothered.

That worries me, how is ma petite fleur supposed to enjoy her night if she can't eat?