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Exiled 

Image by Mihai Paraschiv from Pixabay

He felt like one of the presidents safe inside his residence. No idea what was next; his woman had been acting quite complex. Thanking God, she was in her own duplex. He looked at the clock as he heard the knock. 

He did not Balk with the lock for his lady of the night stood right there. Igniting his inner bear, he heard her swear, “you fucking dare.” 

Feeling the bliss of her french kiss, he heard her hiss as she pulled him into his own abyss. Like a sweet spice, he thought this was nice, and he’d like to have her twice if he could afford the price. 

With eyes like ice, she knew how to entice bringing him to his knees. She made him plea. Then she’d mockingly disagree. 

This amazing whore tied him to the shower door while dancing around the flour. Opening a drawer made him desire what was in store. 

Feeling ecstatic, she shifted to the dramatic. He felt a sudden panic. This wasn’t going to be climatic. 

Taking in his current landscape, he gave a tug with a scrape. There was no way to escape. Her binds were tight under the light. Her moves were slight. This was to be his last night. 

Begging for his life, she pulled out the knife saying, “such a fun little low life.”

Now, of course, she came close with force. She was about to endorse her main course. 

As he felt remorse, he thought of his life and the woman who would have made a good wife. The only thing left in his sight was his afterlife, “what were you thinking, dude?” She had him in the nude. 

He was screwed with no way to allude he was now her new prelude. 

His own damnation led him to this station, now learning utter frustration. 

Her careful dictation elevates his palpitation. 

What a date slow was his fate as she cut him with hate. 

Recommend0 Simily SnapsPublished in All Stories, Poetry, Romance, Satire

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