His hands on my leg, sliding up to the knee, holding me there. His strong hands guiding me.
The hot breath on the back of my neck like he was made of fire.
His stomach, hairy and soft, rubbing against the small of my back and then down as he shifts into position.
His hardness thrusting between my puffy lips; ready or not, he is inside me.
That's where he was until today. And he'll never be there again.
Don't weep for him; he died doing what he loved. Me. He loved me until the end.
His end.
Why did he have to call out her name as he spent himself inside me.
What will he tell the other ghosts in my head.
Oh, this took a dark twist and I love it. I wonder if thats really the way I'd like to go. Seems terribly inconsiderate to my partner. But I guess I'd go out with a smile. Excellent moody piece. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteIt's nice to see these stories are still out here. Brightened up my afternoon.
ReplyDeleteI should be better about posting stuff here. Sorry :(
ReplyDelete