She should know me. Blowjob sex To part her hair with my fingers. I whisper into her ear. She should know me. My hands, my tortured hands: their broken bones and gouged nail holes that weep slowly to my finger-tips. And I stare back at her. I tell her what He did. She slips through the casement; she’s smelling your fear…
I knew the house all too well. Her breasts, beneath her dark negligée, rising and falling, still possessed of a youthful firmness. I tell her how much I wanted it and how much He loved it. My open mouth, my dark hair, my slender body, my parting legs. And Him, on her, kissing her, pushing into her, lying to her. I whisper into her ear. She is whispering my name, Again and again and again. I knew where she would be sleeping. She is frightened. I shouldn’t be a series of texts on a phone so easily thrown across the room at Him.
