📚 Title: Stuck Between Her Thighs and a Lie

I’ve always believed I could run — from debt, from loneliness, from the city’s unlit corners whispering my name when I try to sleep. But her? I can’t run from her.

She calls when it’s late, when the street outside is so quiet you can hear your own regrets. I shouldn’t answer, but my fingers know her number by heart. She says she needs me — just for tonight, just until the cold is gone. I tell myself it’s nothing. But I’m lying to her and to me.

Her flat smells like sweat and secrets — her hair damp, her eyes daring me to say no. I don’t. She knows I won’t. She drags me to her tiny couch, the leather sticky under my elbows as she straddles me like she owns the debt in my veins.

I tell myself this isn’t real — that tomorrow I’ll be stronger. That I’ll say no when she calls again. But I’m stuck. Stuck between her thighs, my promises pressed against her heat, the taste of her mouth reminding me I never meant a word I told myself.

Her nails dig into my shoulders. She says my name like it’s a sin she’s begging forgiveness for. I bury my face in her neck, smell her fear that matches mine. I want to tell her we’re the same — pretending the world outside is waiting for us, pretending we could walk out that door and start fresh.

But we won’t. I won’t.

She arches under me, a soft whimper tearing past her lips when I slide my hand down, feeling how wet she is for a man who doesn’t know how to leave. And maybe that’s what we are — two people stuck in the space between wanting more and taking just enough to survive the night.

When it’s over, she’ll close her eyes and say she’s fine. I’ll pull my jeans back on and step into the cold. She’ll pretend she doesn’t need me again. I’ll pretend I won’t come back.

And tomorrow, we’ll both lie to ourselves — until she calls, and I answer, stuck as ever.