I crave it.
I woke up craving it.
The feeling of his hand against my cheek. Slap. And the other one. Slap. I will scrunch my face, try to block him by turning my head or raising my hand. Not enough to actually block, but just as a reflex. Then I put the hand down. Slap.
No real reason. He doesn't need a reason to slap me.
On my breasts, I crave a hard one that leaves his hand print, each finger outlined. And another one, for the other breast. Then a couple more, just to be sure. Then a couple slaps from each side too.
I had a bunch yesterday, but the marks are gone now.
And I'm craving it even more.
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Well shit!! Now you have me craving it!!!! Dayam.
ReplyDeleteHugs,
Fiona