(no subject)
Oh, but you were tall, bright and beautiful, you, who perfected the look of the perpetually haunted. Who taught me all about public sex, how to rock climb and ride a motorcycle and give a blowjob in the darkroom. I dumped you because you were so fucking passive; nothing was ever your fault; you couldn't ever say no. Two years later, I seduced you again, mostly because your then-girlfriend annoyed the shit out of me, and I'm vindictive that way. It was easy. You were easy, because you were so unhappy, so needy, so desperate to feel wanted and loved and sexy again. And you were. Always will be. Beautiful. And I wanted to. God, how I wanted to.
If I knew where you were today. Now. I'd take you again, wrap my legs around your mouth, your hips until I, you, we hurt. We'd fuck freely, joyously, no promises, nothing attached, again, again and again. I'd let you bruise my insides until they quake.
And afterwards, I'd punch you in the face for being such a cock.
If I knew where you were today. Now. I'd take you again, wrap my legs around your mouth, your hips until I, you, we hurt. We'd fuck freely, joyously, no promises, nothing attached, again, again and again. I'd let you bruise my insides until they quake.
And afterwards, I'd punch you in the face for being such a cock.