Saturday, April 2, 2011


I remember running my fingers through his long locs, laying my face in them and breathing his scent. His breath tasted like cigarettes and beer - like a man who'd been around long enough to be comfortable in his own skin.

He held my body close to him and I felt free enough to be this person I always wanted. Free enough to do or say whatever I wanted. At 22, he made me feel like a sexual empress. He gave me a power I didn't know I had...the power to crush his soul.
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