She put a timid hand to a mysterious sex reflex. She had just read a story of sexual lubricant and measured moisture. She always had mixed emotions. This time, She waltzed unrestrained between the need to justify itself and for any denial. She smiles when she discovered that nothing had changed since his younger days, satisfied. It overflows in a certain aspect of a life she could not forget. The intensity was not deficient and she knew once firmly shut. She then thought that the rapid and excessive consumption came at the end of his imagination. The ordinary also killed his creativity blows of insensitive buttons. In the evening, she preferred to depart rather than engage. The leak was still a more or less pleasant, but not knock him out and ended the lead straight into a sleep that can not be disturbed. In these moments of frustrated housewife, she hated herself.
She always managed to impress with a disconcerting ease, but could no longer find this moment of fantasy between the desire to meet each other and who always took his own more and more time and skill to manifest. She would have liked to get high even before the doors as intense and pronounced without an appointment in a calendar, without it being planned.
impossible not to think back to those men who were forced to change their underwear without even being touched. Impossible not to think back to those women who manipulated her femininity without effort. It seemed strange that love had failed to be written between any of these people and herself.
She collapsed on a bed comfort with the book of the woman she would have liked to be, that she read at a pace indecent. She was seized with the fear of complete and bury its end what remained of atypically feminine.
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