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He The Only He

Her eyes fluttered wildly as he trailed kisses down her throat. Entrance, she gave into him, her nightmare, her dream. Three years of pain mistaken for love, it fell from her mind in a cloud of dust. She wore badges of his so-called affection, that way she could never completely forget. His fingernails dug into her sides and pulled her closer. It actually felt like he never wanted to let go. He breathed heavily, the warmth causing her body to shiver. She could feel the ice of his words running through her veins and no amount of sunlight could rid her of the permanent chill. A drop of sweat burned into her forehead and she let out a sigh, she’d given in again. Shame flushed away the moment of tenderness. He pulled away, out of her embrace. His jeans slid over his skin and he sat on the edge of the bed. She reached out, desperately wanting to touch him again. Her hand shook, stopping mere inches away from the smooth coating over rippling muscle. She couldn’t do it. It was like he once again raised the forcefield around him, and she was stuck on the outside, same as always. She retreated, her hand now limp at her side. Looking over his shoulder, he muttered a few parting words. Then he stood, pulled his shirt over his head, and headed for the door. Love doesn’t always last forever.



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pfgoldfish13 said...
Jan. 31, 2010 at 12:48 pm
I absolutely love your story! The sentences are so vivid with description that I could picture the scene in my head!!! Keep up the good work!
 
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