– Who can tell … – threw fallen lock of her hair. – That’s what you say depends on what you prefer to use fire. You can cure him … or let it destroy you … along with others.
– And really you have a choice? I think there impulses encoded in us, who are stronger than free will. As the elements. They just happen.
– You always have a choice, and always directed towards the path that it entails stronger. The rest are excuses.
– To bet? – And then smother him with the longest kiss in his life.
Other events slipped out of domino principle. Excitement attacked him so violently that he had to have her right then. Their first time was the same as that night – a side street, dark corners. A hobo looking at them with an ironic smile. Seraphim us not in the least embarrassed, it seemed even more you inflame.
Hotel room. At the end of the night it was already completely exhausted and collapsed on its constituent parts. But she wanted more, though more got, the more annoyed her. Instead satisfy her.
Fell asleep from exhaustion, and the last sight that remembered before closing his eyes was her image. She stood before him on the double bed with sweat hair, mad with desire and fingers buried between her thighs.
Wake up with severe muscle strain.
She was not there.
And his wallet with documents.
Since then though was inserted in the same situation. She was returning to his make up, sucking his forces and go.
We traveled in his car in the dark night. I just stood on the driver and his apparent indolence give directions where to drive. I almost lost her mind of moisture between my legs and my excitement increased temperature. But now controlled not want to popileya potential that offered us the night.
My mind worked feverishly and it was hard to relax. Between us there was silence, and I felt no need to fill it with words. With him I did not have, did not need to resort to his usual repertoire, I can hold a collection of masks hidden.
I know I will never belong to him completely, but still my weakness … surely this I keep going back to it. While so many are left behind on the highway of my life as a forgotten luggage on the way. Collection of memories scattered around my shoulder.
I am not a militant feminist, which collects broken hearts and shattered sex dicks do not get me wrong. But I can not stop. I can not be another. Probably sooner or later he will destroy me. At this stage of my life is stronger than me.
And it … well, whatever we say, despite all its apparent permissiveness and temper of a hunting hound, is deeply traditional. They will not accept me share with others. During our meetings turbulent enough I peered into dark corners. I know what he is capable. For this and appear in his life at intervals to give him time to calm his rage.
Am I selfish?