Discovering the Remarkable Adventures of hickies on boobs

hickies on boobs begins at 3:17 a.m. in a hotel suite. City glow through half-open blinds stripes her restless body. She can’t sleep, so hickies on boobs becomes her lullaby. Slow, almost lazy circles over silk panties gradually soak the fabric dark. In hickies on boobs, she pushes them aside instead of removing them—impatient, perfect. Two fingers, then three, stretching, curling, until the headboard thumps rhythmically against the wall. When she finally comes in hickies on boobs, it’s with a muffled scream into the pillow, whole body shaking so hard the mattress springs sing. Dawn finds her asleep in tangled sheets, panties still twisted to the side—proof that hickies on boobs worked better than any sleeping pill.