just bad timing

I could see his fullback tattoo on the mirror ceiling. I could see myself underneath him, my nails clawing his back. It was doubling the feeling, when he touched the very end of me. The Weeknd was playing in the background. And I’m gon’love you girl, the way you need. His thrusts were so intentional and deep. They synced to the music. His breath was caressing my neck, driving my senses to oblivion. The smell of paint in the studio and our bodies mingling was intoxicating. I got my heart right here, I got my scars right here. So let me muthafuckin’ love you. And so I let him.


We met at a part-time work thing I did. He was wearing his uniform, white shirt and black pants, bowtie and hair slicked back. There was pain in his eyes—this mystery and passion that could devour you in one…

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