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11/05/09(Thu)22:47 No.12538301I
love him so much that it hurts. It hurts all over when I look at him;
when he laughs, when he holds Her hand, when he sneaks off with Her
into the bathroom, Her giggling mass of black hair and shining blue
eyes make his face soften, and I know, he loves Her and he will never
love me.
Yet here we are, on this bed, and I’m inside of him.
He’s thrusting himself into me, moaning that beautiful moan, his head
tossed back. I bet SHE can’t make him moan like that. I bet SHE can’t
make him beg for me, his eyes rolling back with the ecstasy I can give
him. FUCK, I can give him EVRYTHING she can’t.
Yet he loves her and he only comes to me when it’s convenient for him.
“Ah,
ah,” he whimpers, body shivering all at once, beautiful snowy-white
exploding onto my stomach. His arms are around my neck and I’m so
close, so I continue to move, and even though he’s empty, he makes
those beautiful jumpy gasps and rubs his ass into me, and I let out a
low groan, spilling myself.
We both cling to each other and we’re burrowed beneath the sheets of my bed, panting, laughing, crying, together.
I love him.
I fucking love him.
“I
love her,” he reminds me, his voice a beautiful whisper, into my hair,
like he always does. He knows if he doesn’t, I’ll just think this time,
he'll finally realize that I am everything she isn’t, that it’s ME he
belongs with. But no. He loves Her, not me, and I can only watch him
leave me alone again, the heat of summer cracking through my open
window, reminding me of a day long ago, when I fell in love with
Stanley Marsh. |