We held hand and talked forever. She called me “baby” and I
called her “boo”. We were together. We spent the night exchanging stares and
holding hands. Blowing kisses and sending smileys. We were together. She held
my hand with pride. She owned me. She made me feel so wanted I forgot what I
left behind.
I saw her again the next night. She made me feel so special. Watched my every
move so she could blow me kisses when I turned back to see if she’s still
there. We drank. We danced. We partied. Nice times with our friends. She took
me to a quiet place and made me dance for her. She planted her hands on my big
waist and let out little moans as I slowly pressed my booty on her. Moving to
the rhythm of our passion.
Later that night she had me in her bed. Her soft sweet kisses on my lips like candy.
She was scrumptious. Stripped me bare then sank to south of my being. She
tasted my flower. Her warm kisses on my thighs. We made moves ‘til sparks flew.
We were on fire. I exploded in her hand and she quenched her thirst with my nectar.
All night ‘til we were breathless. She had me and I had her. She lay in my arms
and as we slumbered every bother in the world faded away.
The next day I had to go away. The most beautiful night and
I couldn’t stay for more. She looked at me and I could see the sorrow in her
eyes. She wanted more. She felt robbed.
Her body language spoke: “How could someone so magical to me belong to
someone else?”. I wanted to run to her. Tell her I’d stay forever but he was
waiting for me and I had to go home to him.
I asked if she’d stay in touch. She said she could if she
would but the thought of him with me would kill her so she’d just rather let me
leave. Our fire perished and all we had left was the sweet memory.
I’m with him now. I’m back home. I miss her but
can’t let it show. I’m with him. I’m back home. If she still thinks of me, I’ll
never know.
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