He glared into her jet black eyes and smirked.
She stared back and gave him a shy, timorous grin.
Inclining forward, he gently planted his lips on hers.
They could feel the incalescence caused by the friction between their lips.
"I love you.", he whispered against her lip,
She blushed, of course, and grinned so wide that all her 32 teeth were visible.
He snickered as he reached for her waist,
and ran his hands over her curves.
She looked into his eyes, aghast.
"What's wrong?", he questioned.
"Nothing."
He clasped onto the hem of her tee-shirt,
and just as when he was about to lift it,
she paused, clutched his hand in place and whispered, " Don't."
"But, why?", he queried,
"You won't like my body." She retorted,
rather tear-eyed.
With a fading smile and a falling mouth,
he embraced her.
"What had society done to her?
Why had society done this to her?
Who is society to do this to her?"
He wondered.
He benevolently removed her tee,
she bowed down and gaped into her lap,
where she was fidgeting with her long, skinny fingers.
He critiqued the 2 tyres on her tummy,
the blackish-brown spots on her shoulders and chest,
and the stretch marks on her waist.
He lifted her chin,
held her face in his hands,
and gazed into her stunning eyes which were filled with ignominy and embarrassment.
With a lump in his throat, he said, "you're so beautiful."
She looked up and blinked a tear which ran down her cheek.
He entombed his face in her neck and hissed,
"Don't be let down by society.
It's a b****."
It is. Indeed.