brilliant and it lights up her eyes like pure magic. For the next few hours, I will make her smile and laugh and be so deliriously happy that she will forget how to cry and who her heart longs for.
“Thank you,” she says with tears in her beautiful green eyes.
“What are you thanking me for? I haven’t done a bloody thing to you, yet. Hold your thank yous and applause until after my stellar performance,” I add with a wink. This, her and I, right now, is going to be anything but sad. It’s going to be bloody ace and she will be wearing the smile I instigated long after I’ve left, and so will I. We don’t need to talk; we need to fuck, hard, and forget the world and every last bastard inhabiting it.
I reckon the speaking portion of our day has just ended and the best part is about to commence. The expression and the smile on her face are doing funny things to my brain. I’m getting high on Sara and there are no drugs involved. We ought to start subtracting some coverings and let the fun begin. Talking and trying to sort out our rubbish, I’m not very good at, but fucking her in this bed will be my pleasure, and with any luck, hers too.
I go back to kissing her, enjoying how the bright room illuminates every piece of her. It feels like we’re inside a thick fog operating at slow motion. I’m holding myself up on my forearms, letting just my hard tool touch her lower stomach and I feel her trying to gain more traction with our only point of contact. She wants this—my horny, broken ballerina wants me. Not yet, baby, let’s see what makes you squirm first. My cock will wait. My eyes need to get their fill of seeing her enjoying my touch.
I sit back on my knees and remove my T-shirt. I see the way she takes me in. She zeroes in on my tattoo and sits up to get a closer look. She traces the letters of my sister’s name and it feels odd as I normally wouldn’t allow somebody to touch it, but there is no way I’d tell her to stop. The way she traces the tiny scripted letters, you’d think they were written in braille. She slides her legs from under me and also sits up, mirroring me on her knees. She explores my body with her gaze, and I can’t stop looking back. She touches my chest and runs her delicate fingers down my arms, making everything flex and come to life. We’re not looking away from one another and I don’t reckon I could if I tried.
I slide my hands under her loose top and slowly remove it. I want to look down at her chest. I want to lower my head and give her breasts a taste, and yet I can’t bloody look away from Sara, my Sara. I’m fully aware that I keep calling her mine in my head, but nobody can hear me and she is mine, for right now.
“Listen To Your Heart” by Roxette
I feel beautiful when he won’t look away from me. For the first time in my life, I feel like the only girl in somebody’s world, which is preposterous, since I’m sure he wishes I were Emily. I don’t blame him; I wish I were Emily half the time, too. When Jeff and I make love, or fuck or whatever it is we’ve been doing for years, I never see his eyes open and it’s almost always dark. Liam hasn’t looked away from me or closed his eyes once and I’m turned on without him even touching me. My head is telling me how stupid I am, but I won’t listen. I’ve listened to my head for fifteen years. If I had listened to my weak, worthless heart, I wouldn’t be here today. I wouldn’t have let the only man I’ve ever loved agree to do what’s right and fair in the eyes of society. I would’ve been selfish and demanded things that my immature, helpless heart couldn’t ask for back then. Is it too much to want to be loved above all others, above reason, above common sense, and above what’s expected? Shouldn’t every girl be with someone who only wants to be with her?
I need Mr. Knight in Shining Armor to keep looking at me as if I really am the only girl