No lies of calling the next day, and no empty promises of not banging anyone’s mother.
If I could act like I’ve never met a set of twins I screwed on the same night, thinking they were the same person, then I could do this.
It was the perfect set up for a fake relationship and it was simple.
We faked our smiles, we faked our laughs; hell, we even faked our love. It wasn’t real.
But that kiss was anything but fake, and the orgasm was anything but pretend.
Somehow my plus one had become more, and now I’m standing here with my underwear around my ankles wondering what in the hell to do next.
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