Becoming
Looking into his eyes she could see that, she didn't drive his desires anymore. The touch she felt was as cold and lonley as the the door closing behind the one night stands she watched walk away many times before.
He used to be in love with her, every chance he had he wanted to be with her, now he yerns for something else that she no longer satisfies in him.
Maybe it was her insecurities, created at no fault of her own, but just as she was about to heal, another blow to the ache she thought was just about over.
Loveing her seems hard, every one walks away and leaves her to pick up the pieces of her heart she gave to them.
I thought he was different jaded like me. Both hurt by the world and wanting love. I have so much love to give him yet he seems scared to take it in.
He has a need that I can't fulfill so he turns to the easy distance of the perfecly imperfect women spread out on the screen, fuleing his fantasys as hours go by switching between tabs, he thinks I don't know but I can see the hunger in his eyes and the racing of his heart as the screen shows what his dick is throbbing for. When he sees me looking at him he says I love you, but the tone says it all.
Expressing to him the hurt I feel has become difficult. I question if it's even worth it anymore, as it continues but now even more secretive. What other secrets lie behind the screen? Searches of his fantasys show no resemblance to what I bestow, maybe I'm a rest stop, from the world that treated him so cruel.
Still I crave him, like he craves his fantasies. I crave his lips and tongue between my thighs. His desire to be for me. His eyes to undress me like they once did. Maybe he's become bored with the same adventure, the enticement gone. Thoughts run through my head as we have sex. As his eyes are looking through me, withdrawn. Which fantasy is fuleing him to give me the satisfaction he thinks I'm needing to keep be hushed for tonight
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