It is the demon that screams that I am a second class woman, incapable of keeping and satisfying a man. I am an unworthy slut that is only fit for low...life scum. I cringe at the thought, and try to bury it, but it will still not go away. I look at my life with you and see the love in your eyes as a friend, but I do not see the look of my soul mate. The one who adores me and makes me his woman in every manner of possession that is possible. I want to be that woman for you; I must be that woman. There was that moment of panic when you were driving to work and you felt something trying to invade your consciousness. It was that feeling of a dark, heavy presence pushing your consciousness down into a deep recess of your soul that made you want to jump out of your skin, slam your foot on the accelerator, and crash into the bus that was turning into the intersection.Then there was the surreal experience of watching yourself bleed to death as the paramedics and fire fighters tried to extract. Slow, at first, but deep. A gently rocking of my hips, my fingers playing against your skin again. I love feeling you. Just skin touching skin. Love sleeping naked with you, love showering with you, love holding your hand, and feeling your lips touching mine.But I especially love when your eyes roll into the back of your head and you moan my name.Not sure if it’s like permission, or a plea, but it works either way.Now, I am not slow. I am not gentle. I am not patient.I reposition myself,. " Russell was quite willing; one bed was as good as another, and bed it looked like it was going to be. When they were through her door, Jenny put her bare arms around him and reached up to take his jacket off to hang it up. She had just cleared it from his arms and was holding it in the air behind him when she murmured, "Make yourself at home." Russell took her at her word and slipped one hand into the top of the slit in her dress and put it on her triangle of pubic hair. His.
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" And almost instantly, a mirrorappeared in the man's hand and Andy was staring at the reflection of abeautiful blond woman, sleeping. "How are we ha
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