My lips were still tingling by the raw contact of the flesh swollen by the excitement in my tongue, and I slid my nails in his groin, studying through my eyelashes the way the veins of his body throbbed below my fingers. I moved my hair away from my face and mounted it on his lap, using one hand to fit our bodies and the other to support my weight against his sweat-so wet chest. He gasped, snapping his lips in a suggestive way. My movements were slow at first, just what was necessary for your cock to slip slowly into my entrance.He dug the most protruding parts above my hip, regulating my back and forth movement. I gave myself to the feeling of warmth and satisfaction, moaning the false commands so that he reached my right point. In the position I was in, I had control of the situation, but his cold hands distracted me somehow, almost causing all my horniness to be reduced to a big nothingness.Impatient, I stretched out my hands and hit yours on the metal headboard on my bed, holdin
When I moved the pillow away from my face, shaking my hair with the movement, I noticed that the man had broken. I hadn't even asked for your name before bringing it to my house and having sex in my own room. If I still lived with my father, I was sure that he would skin me and the man who would shudder my walls with loud moans. However, this was not the case.I slipped out of the sheets, unintentionally turning in front of my closet with dark doors, where a mirror was located in the center of the sliding doors. My eyes descended to my tanned and reddish skin, and a shadow of disapproval had appeared above the greenish color in my irises, as dark as a moss.It can be said that for someone with such high self-esteem, it was easy to admire their image in the face of a reflection. However, my face was different from what I used to feel, so I tried to avoid the mirrors. I didn't look for long, and when it was strictly necessary, I didn't see in a true way. I just did what I needed and sai
I sat next to Kendall on one of the metal stools with black seats, crossing my arms on the table. I noticed the soslaio look that my father threw at me, but I ignored it, looking at the top lamp lit against the dining table.Stefan Turner, always known as daddy, was a man of principles. Even after his failed marriage, his not so well-known books and months supporting young people in his work as a teacher, he was still an old man, and with that I mean that he failed each of my decisions. He didn't rule me, he never tried to play such a role, and maybe that's what boosted my indomitable instinct. However, I could see in his enviable dark blue eyes the size of his inconformation.Like every self-respecting father, he wanted the best for me. And the best thing, definitely, was not to go out with several different guys and stick them in my legs. I knew how shameful it would be for him to teach men who have already had sex with his daughter, but it would be difficult not to receive a trial
My father was also dancing, but his type of dance was so strange that I preferred not to face it for a long time. He shook only his head and shoulders, his gray hair shaking madly and his shoulders in a shrug movement. Tristan wasn't dancing, he had been looking at Kendall all the time. I could have sworn seeing his eyes shining. I immediately recognized that the sentimental aura that involved them was taking shape again."Come here, my bear. " Kendall called Tristan with one hand, while a new song played on my cell phone.Tristan didn't wait for another invitation. He approached Kendall shaking his plump body and pulled her with one hand. Kendall approached dancing sensually, holding one of Tristan's hands and swinging the other to the rhythm of the song. He turned her and almost so fast, held her close to her body and she laughed. My father poked me with the spatula."I wish your friend wasn't so blind..." he whispered when I looked in her direction. I also wanted to...But who was
"Maybe your thing is to write about real things," Kendall spoke with his mouth full of chocolate. His fingers lightly surrounded the corners of his lips, being sucked soon after. "Do you know those biographies that people want to write, but don't know where to start? You can be the person who knows how to use words to shout what the world pretends not to hear."It's no use, Keny," my father murmured, spiteful. "Your friend thinks that being a writer is as stupid as paying attention to the family that stayed on another continent.I laughed sharply, moving away from the closet to have space. "I'm not ignoring anyone, if that's what you're insinuating.He didn't move.“Your sister calls every day."For me, she doesn't turn on," I shrugged, recovering my cell phone on the counter just in case. "You could accept the fact that no one in that country cares about our existence. It would be less ridiculous, Dad.My father sighed, looked down and began to unroll the dishcloth in his hands. "Don
The sound of Joan Lett burst in my ears, and my breath snored in my chest, as the street complained below my running shoes. People and landscapes were just blurs against the wind that kissed my face, wrapped my body like an icy cocoon and removed any trace of insecurity.When we run, we get rid of every bad thought. Running by itself is the best method to relieve a sentimental weight. The feet collide with kilometers of pure concrete, separated by thin shoes with springs. Breathing becomes interspersed, so we need to change the way we breathe. Even if it was in the middle of spring, the month of March was still very harsh, melting the winter ice and rising the icy steam on our faces. It was the heat of adrenaline in my veins that reduced the feeling of cold.“ Yeah me... "I sang my favorite song, alternating between jumping and running even faster.I threw myself between the passage in which the trees formed an arch, closed to the sun, and open to the loved ones who took pictures agai
"I'm not a submissive! "I emphasized, tightly closing the duckling curtain of the box.Kendall opened the fragile plastic, crossing her arms against the wall tiles. "I didn't say it was, I just said it would be nice to try something different because of my feeling.My best friend broke into my apartment shortly after dinner was ready, and didn't give me privacy even for a shower, claiming to be too excited and that I would forget if she didn't tell me what she wanted immediately. I was shaving my legs at the last minute, all because I forgot to make an appointment at my usual spa, and that's when she had the audacity to include me in her plans for the night. I had to take extra care when I slid the razor on my ankles, trying not to lose the firmness of my hands when listening to another of Kendall's genius ideas.I laughed. "Another vision? "I focused on the massage I did on my hair with the thick shampoo. " Like the one where you said you would hit the lottery numbers, based on a dre
But she managed to convince me, and only two hours later "the time it took us to get tight clothes and with at least one detail in leather, considering that our bodies were completely different" there we were, two figures covered up to the neck with heavy overcoats. The icy wind hit our shrunken bodies over the fenced door of a store, the air chain invading the loose space between our ankles and the heavy clothing bar, and I cursed myself for once again accepting one more of my friend's ideas.The Dark Target club had a facade as dark as its name. It was discreetly erected between a convenience store and an almost deserted corner. It occurred to me that the few innocent people who passed by the place would know perfectly what those in the long line expected to find inside the house camouflaged by the shadows of the night.I tried not to feel intimidated by people wearing different types of black fantasies. But it was almost impossible not to find yourself staring at a curious figure. I
A few years later“Every night, while I was just a girl, my grandmother used to sit next to me in bed reciting for me the same story of the princess of the seas that I'm about to tell...”"Oh, no, mom," grumbled the little girl with red and thick hair, with the blanket partially covering her small body at that moment. "I don't want to hear stories of princesses again. And Ariel's story isn't even that cool."Laughing, his twin brother agreed:"It's true, Mom. The stories are repeated every night. In addition, it is practically impossible for a girl to give up her legs for a boy," he yawned and supported a hand below his chin, as if his argument did not leave gaps for refutation. "Tell me more about how you and Dad met."I couldn't help but smile. My story with Zachary had been full of ups and downs, tragedies and happiness, but he had also given me an invaluable gift. The love of two children who were not in our plans, but became the axis of our worlds.At that time, we had been togeth
In the summer, a television program decided to sponsor meetings between strangers, offering vacancies for women to apply in search of finding the love of their lives.The registrations took place through the site, anonymously and safely, until, if your file was interesting enough to draw attention, the production of the program would get in touch and make a dinner on its own. Generally, in closed places and with the entire technical team on the backs of couples, where mostly they passed from men and women between the ages of twenty and thirty.No one persuaded me to try the chance to find true love in a reality show. Not even Kendall, whose obsession with finding me a boyfriend was already going beyond the limits. She said that being stuck at home, just writing and crying, would not help me find the love that I said so much existed in my stories. But she ignored it when I said I wrote so I wouldn't have to look for someone for real. My friend didn't understand that literary disappoint
One year later"Do you mean that now you write real novels? "As asked one of the men in the circle of girls.I nodded, pushing my hair away to my shoulders." Some people like to live love, I prefer to write about it.His face changed from curiosity to admiration in a snap of fingers. I had trained that answer in front of the mirror several times before that one. First because my family didn't seem to understand what my profession required of me, and then because it was the easiest answer to give in an interview. Short, thick, and at the same time what they would like to hear. My agent would be proud."A toast to success! "Said the blonde next to me, raising the full cup."Do not mix alcohol with medicines," advised the man next to him, pulling the cup to his own lips.The blonde stretched out to take the cup back, but the man leaned back and ran away from his reach. When she got tired, she sat on the chair and blew the strands of hair that fell on her face. A single reddish strand sho
Kendall had plotted that date. I had no doubt."Severe," he hesitated.Containing the nervousness in my body, I asked:“How are your sisters?" Well," he replied, swallowing dry. "Doniya is still in rehabilitation, but Waliyha and Safaa are happy to return home. My cousins are fine, safe.My eyes easily wrinkled by the wide smile I threw at him.“I’m happy for you, Zee.He returned the smile, a little awkward. She looked around, into the empty room, at Kendall sneaking in with a box in hand, and watched as she helped me look for any object of sentimental value in the mess of shards and shards of glass."Are you definitely moving to your father's house? "His voice faltered a little.I shook my head, looking away."No, I'll be back to France next week.If a needle fell to the ground, we would all listen, so obscenely quiet that the environment became."Dd't you... make peace with your family? "He asked in a soft, soft tone.I shrugged."Eeven if I still hated them, I wouldn't have much
The doorman greeted me as soon as I passed the family concierge and let Kendall drag my chair. I had never thrown more than one look at the ramp passage that went up to the floors, always running through the steps of the main staircase, but now, it was that path I needed to take.I entered my destroyed apartment turning the wheels of the chair with my own hands, because despite smiling, Kendall was pale and sweaty for taking me through the steep path. I didn't like to think that she felt she had an obligation to help me, and she did her best not to have to ask. But life is very different from the pink world when you lose the ability to be free, and depending on others is the only way to live.We don't even need a key to open the door, it was propped up, torn from its hinges. A police containment strip surrounded the room and fixed itself on the corners of the walls, at that moment filled by the cardboard boxes with things stored. The windows no longer had glass, the pots formed a dang
Six months laterI was told that if it weren't for a miserable brain activity, I would have died the first time my heart stopped beating.Six months earlier, after twenty-eight hours of kidnapping, I was admitted to the emergency room with clinical death, and the doctors brought me back. Part of me was already dead, while the other fought for another breath of life. I didn't see the light, nor any relatives who died a long time ago. I just died. More than once.The shots that hit my body charged their price. The one in my chest lodged between two of my ribs attached to the sternum, but did not hit my heart. On the other hand, the one in my spine had the same impact as a hammering in my bones; dragging and compressing tissues and vertebrae into a cone effect.It was scary to regain consciousness with a complete medical team about me, and, even worse, outside finding out the diagnosis. My legs were heavy, asleep and uncomfortable, when I was told it was a spinal cord injury at T12 level.
The news didn't talk about anything else. The mistake was to believe that it was a terrorist attack. Mocking the news, Kendall stroked his burnt arm, feeling a sudden itching in him. There was proof that the intentions of that massacre involved more than political and religious interests.No one could ever say that she was not the kind of person who put his hand on the fire for a friend. She put her whole arm for Mila! And if he would throw himself completely into a fire for Tristan. Thinking about it brought him hilarious pleasure, and ended up having to fight against the hysterical laughter that floated in his throat. I was already more than crazy just for all that damn wait.He didn't realize he fell asleep until he heard someone calling her softly. He swore to have heard Tristan's voice, but when he raised his head from the hard and rough seats on which he leaned, he realized that another man stood on the door frame of the open.Stefan Turner seemed more dejected than usual. The h
Have you ever had the feeling of not being useful to the world?Did you ever feel that no matter how good your intentions to people were, nothing seemed like enough? Did you feel that you could disappear, even in front of a crowd, and no one would worry about finding you? Have you ever thought how wonderful it would be to live the world that exists only inside your head? That reality only served to overshadow the brightness of your dreams?Because Kendall Reedy would have an affirmative answer to all these questions.I couldn't complain about the friends I had, but if I were to take into account all the years I had taken to meet those people who received her as a family, I would die regretting the terrible family life I had.She was the youngest daughter among many brothers. The only one who cared about the vices and consequences acquired by the parents, both detached from the behaviors acceptable to society. I paid to keep them alive, away from debts with trafficking or loans with ma
I heard the sirens, the well-known friction of wheels moving over the floor, lights flashing red and blue. However, I wanted to be able to say that I didn't need care. That I didn't feel the pain anymore. But she returned, this time, straight into my heart, when the stretcher passed me and supported a large body carried by two police officers who wore black helmets. Zachary was raised, unconscious and bathed in blood, practically faint.I couldn't see where all that blood came from, especially because my attention was called to the police officers who were returning from the open door, pulling the injured mobsters in tight handcuffs. Among those who wore dark vests and helmets with the acronyms of the FBI, I recognized the robust figure of Dennis, Zachary's co-worker.The policeman pulled with unnecessary brutality a person smaller than him, covered by black robes and with an arrogant air in his footsteps. When the person raised his head and found me being immobilized by the team of f