Submitted by megan on Sun, 06/14/2009 - 20:31
After you left I felt wrung out and loose, at loose ends, not quite sure what to do with myself. You were something else, your hands and your tongue, the words, your look. I sat and stared out the window. Found myself standing in the middle of the bedroom, surveying the disaster, a hand cupped around my bruised cunt. A daydreamy fuzz over my skin.

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