All I do is dream of Shane Wentz.
It’s all any girl ever does. He has an effect on us that none of us understand. It’s not just his looks or his rumored huge package, but something else. He effortlessly breaks down your walls with just a glance. I’ve fantasized about him countless times, and even though he seems like he’s probably a jerk, I can’t help but want him.
As I watch him on the field, I find myself mesmerized like I’m under some trance that slows time and space. I stare at his huge muscles, his chiseled, handsome face underneath his helmet, his perfect, tall body. I even find myself thinking, once again, about how much I wish he could take me in the locker room after the game and...