...

[herfightingsoul]

He answers with a kiss. I watch his pale slender hand travel up my body, tracing cold pattern on my colder skin. I lie there passive and drunk. He kiss me again, his eyes wide, his pupils huge and needy. And I give in. It's not so much the physical relese, which feels like a dream, lifting me out of myself. "Is this okay?" "Are you sure?" I love it

Comments

my dearest,

[rockbottombetty]

you are everything to me. why must we have nights like those that rip us into weird pieces and make our minds do unheard of things. screw the Almonte boys. they are scum.

Re: my dearest,

[herfightingsoul]

my is it that we are using ironic words today. you just said "screw the Almonte boys"... how ironic is that my dear? haha. oh. it's really not that funny at all.