A little bit of My history.

(When I write freely, I don't bother with capitalization. Just FYI.)

do I miss the naïveté of younger sara? sneaky late night texts, arranging a rendezvous behind the backs of my friends, drunkenly slipping into empty rooms for a minute or two of touching and giggling and kissing before getting caught. I was so young then, full of hope that there would be a future in the secret affair that made me both ecstatic and suicidal. what did I know back then? thinking that I knew better, apparently. always assuming that I would be able to find a crack and slither my way inside, but time passed and he grew and I grew and with it my childish fantasies melted away.

I didn't feel like a child. pressed together, heat and sweat and friction, the senses tingling as i felt him filling me the way I loved most, feeling complete as we made use of our human bodies. the same bodies we'd inhabited since conception, the bodies that we'll use until the day we die, writhing around, primal urges being satisfied, rug burns on my knees, back, elbows, and ass. little treasures for the day after when I would have no reason left to smile aside from tiny reminders of the night before. brushing my fingertips over each bruise was a smile, a flashback, a jolt of electricity in my pussy that was still sore from being pounded by your cock. how could I possibly have felt like a child when i could still smell you on my skin? when I could feel your teeth marks on my lips?

to be continued.