“Kirstenbosch” by Zurina Saban
He was painfully aware of his sweat. It oozed out of his pores and swam down his temples and cheeks without bothering to bead. His T-shirt was stuck to the flat mounds of his breasts . . .
He was painfully aware of his sweat. It oozed out of his pores and swam down his temples and cheeks without bothering to bead. His T-shirt was stuck to the flat mounds of his breasts . . .