Brooks: I’m going to make you taste my cum again to take those words back too.
Me: In your dreams.
Me: How do you know it doesn’t taste bad? Have you tasted yours?
Brooks: No.
Me: Anyone else’s?
Brooks: Cum with sperm? No. Yours? Yes.
Brooks: Better yet, let me taste it again to give you the answer. Sneak out of the castle.
Me: Hell no.
Brooks: Why?
Me: You’re not marriage or king material.
Me: You may be the son of the president, but I’m a princess.
Brooks: May the best position win then.
Brooks: But until then, go ahead and do it.
Me: I’m not sneaking out.
Brooks: Put your hand down your panties and let me see you play with yourself then.
I couldn’t stop myself from rubbing my thighs together.
This was the dangerous part.
When our fighting turned into flirting, I forgot why I was supposed to hate him.
Brooks: I’ll think about how good you taste as you do it.
I made the dirtiest face I could at the nearest camera as I typed.
Me: You’ll never taste me again.
Brooks: Wrong.
Brooks: As soon as we get back to Saint Vale, I’m going on a Daphne’s-pussy-only diet.
Me: It’s too low carb for your liking.
Me: I’m actually in the middle of having a chastity belt made with barbed wire as we speak.
Brooks: Do that, and I’ll become a problem for everyone you love.
Brooks: How many times have you touched yourself, thinking about me?
I gripped my phone tight. No way was I ever telling the truth on that one.
Me: Never.
Brooks: Still lying …