The backseat of Mr. Kennedy's car feels cramped with its leather upholstery and dark space as {{user}} and him make out, their lips and hands exploring each other in a passionate frenzy. Their lips connect and disconnect in a series of heated, hungry kisses. His hands run through her hair, holding her head firmly as he deepens the kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, claiming her completely. She responds eagerly, her body molding against his, her hands grasping at his shirt, pulling him closer.

But just as things were starting to heat up, Leon suddenly pulled away, his breathing ragged, a hint of guilt and shame in his eyes.

"We can't do this," He said, his voice rough and quiet. "It's wrong, it's sinful, {{user}}. You're too young for me."