every picture is a story

Finally we are together… her boyfriend stayed home, i knew that here would be too far away, he will be missing too many football games. I am so happy that we are on budget, and we can share a room, she smells so nice when she comes out of the shower, and her laughters make her breasts shake a bit, they are so firm. If only she knew that when she does that, how my stomach rumble, all the hunger grow from my sacral chakra. How can’t she see how i blush, and try to keep cool, but i am sure she noticed i am using too often ‘babe’ or ‘whatever’ or ‘let’s forget about that’ like I am keeping myself at bay. I need her so much, feel the texture of her lips on my lips, hear her breath growing deep, pearl of sweat on her neck that i will catch with one glimpse of my tongue. How i would hold her hair up and whispers in her ear things i would have never dreamt telling her. How i would just love her in a cheap hotel room next to a taxi stand in a lost city of south east asia, but that would be the love she never would have received from him. Oh my god, I am so wet and “butterflied”, if only she knew i just want her to be free with me. I don’t know what she thinks of it, and truly I think i will never know. I can’t take the risk that she will look at me as a freak, as abnormal, as a deviant, as a lesbos, I can’t take the risk of loosing her. An unspoken love is better than than hatred, but if i could only tell her…