The Dreaded Desires: Lewd Ends

In continuation of The Dreaded Desires: Desperation
It was a month to that date when Roy asked Myra to be in a no strings attached relationship, or it maybe called a non-relationship. Because it was never a bond, just sensuality occurring.

Initially Myra thought that Roy was cracking a joke, that it was just a role play thing.
Alas! She was naive and didn’t really know what was she entering into when she said yes to Roy in desperation.
The hurt began when the trails of unpicked calls and lonely texts started again. It heightened when Roy only summoned her for a steamy session of making love. She always wanted to know the mystery behind Roy, but he never let her. They never talked but his touch spoke loud, which made her crave him even more.
But the hurt was so high that she wanted to leave him, but she couldn’t. His touch made her go wild, even at night when she drifted to sleep, she dreamed about she and him under the sheets.
There used to be times when all Myra thought about was Roy, his bare chest, his tan skin, his six abs. She could not control her heightened emotions. She used to wait late night for his texts, many times he didn’t reply but when he did, all he asked was for her lewd images. Usually she showed off the gap between her breasts.
After a time she became extremely obsessive with Roy that she started losing her identity, her goals, her aspirations. All she wanted was to please Roy, that was her main agenda then.

Continue reading “The Dreaded Desires: Lewd Ends”
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The Second Time I See You

Mirror mirror on the wall,
whenever I gaze into you; why do I feel so insecure?
The first time I see you,
I see me,
the whole me
and the second time I see you,
why do you show me the imperfect me?
I look in you,
and see the bags under my eyes,
the spots on my forehead
and my lips so dry.
The concoction of panic, anxiety overcomes,
I don’t look pretty, my thoughts say in unison.
My therapist tells me to not to meet you for a while,
but if the desire provokes,
I may have a look at you.
But, trust me!
I don’t want to see you again, to see the ugly me again.