Good Girls Don't Do Anal

In the dim glow of the afternoon TV, Rick slouches on the couch in his girlfriend's empty family home, the air thick with unspoken urges. Gina, freshly 18 and buzzing with infatuation, saunters in as housesitter, tray of snacks in hand for her beloved. Her folks adore him, this slightly older college guy woven into their world. With them gone for the week, she revels in this illicit domestic bliss, curling against him, her body pressing close as he munches away. Idle chatter fades into charged silence, Rick's eyes darkening with hunger. 'Wanna switch it up?' he murmurs, voice laced with mischief. Before she can answer, he yanks her onto his lap, lips crashing in a fevered kiss. She grins wickedly, fingers fumbling his shirt open. Clothes rip away in a frenzy of groping hands and heated breaths, their young bodies grinding in raw foreplay. Rick spins her to her knees, ass arched high, camera lingering on her flushed anticipation as she craves his thrust. He trails scorching kisses down her spine, positioning to plunge—then her face twists in alarm. 'STOP!' she gasps, and he withdraws, smirking like a predator. Fuming, she bolts upright, snatching her scattered garments in tense quiet. 'What the fuck, Rick?' he presses. 'Like I said before,' she snaps, eyes blazing, 'you keep aiming for the goddamn wrong hole!' CUT TO TITLE: Good Girls Don't Do Anal. Dawn breaks. Gina stirs...