this year

This year, instead of candy or chocolates, I got a pair of pants. Pants that fit, that weren’t too tight. Pants that made me feel the way I used to, before the baby. I wore them home, enjoying the lusty glances that lingered on my ass. I showed off for my husband. “The pants look great,” he said. “But they’re gonna look better in a minute,” he continued, leading me into the bedroom. He was so right. Afterwards, I ate as many chocolates as I wanted.

'this year' (c) riain grey 2006 - do not reproduce without written permission

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