It hurts when he gets out of me. It burns. He holds onto me after. Maybe I do love him. Maybe that is why we were brought together in the first place. Or maybe I need to learn to stop asking why. Love is love. Nothing more. I do love him. With every bit of my heart and soul do I love him. Could I ever leave him? No. Never. Why not? Because, I would break. I would die. I need to feel him inside me. more ...
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The effect his physical presence has on me after two weeks of being apart is incredible; I can feel my heart jumping, and the distant, warm ache between my legs. We drive half the first hour home in giddy silence punctuated now and again with breathless phrases-- "I missed you so much!" "I can't wait to get home." We stop at a small Greek restaurant for dinner and I babble about school, the classes I like best, my professors and classmates, and all the while he listens carefully, beaming at me. more ...