Do you remember those lace panties you liked?
They were black, thick lace that gently held both hips, and high-waisted enough to hit my navel ring so the gem peeked in and out as I moved. I wore a lot of black because you said you liked it. Boys always like black lingerie.
Do you remember them? Of course you do. You remember them as I lay on my stomach on your bed, still warm and drowsy, watching you get dressed in the morning. You remember them hidden up my skirts and the breezy slipdresses I was into that year. You remember them on your floor, after you’d pulled them off me slowly.
There’s a certain smell in the air on a spring morning, still a little chilly, that always reminds me of waking up in your bed. Sometimes we’d sleep with the windows cracked open, despite the…
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