Bailey had met his contact Harrison at this really shifty motel a couple miles outside of town. Every other time they’d met up things had gone completely according to plan. Bailey supplied the cash, Harrison gave him the drugs. They had the system down pat.

Then one fine summer day Harrison decided he wanted to change things up a bit. He knew the police were starting to close in. They’d noticed that a guy in a black hoodie was the one supplying drugs for a number of parties which had gotten busted. Harrison figured it was time to change it up.

After all, Harrison pondered as he thrust into Bailey and she swore “oh, fuck!” the police were looking for a guy, not an hot girl.


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