You could only stand there, heartbroken, and watch them kiss. Every bit of it killed you inside- their lips pressed together, their tongues intertwined, his muscular arms around her waist, enjoying the softness of her sexy sweater, her arms against his broad chest with her hands resting on his strong shoulders and how much taller he was than you, so that even with her boots on, the ones with the crazy high heels, he was still much taller than her⌠and just when you thought you couldnât take anymore, she turned and looked directly at you, smiling. Taunting. She didnât have to say a word. She knew this was torture for you. And she loved it. Loved inflicting such soul crushing pain, waiting for the moment she knew would come. The moment you break down, tears flowing, your knees buckling. Sensing this, she glanced down from your eyes to their feet, and down you went. Satisfied, she turned back towards him and resume kissing, and as she did, you began kissing their feet. Youâre not sure why, it just felt like the right thing to do, even though somehow you knew youâd never really recover from it. This scene would forever be in your memory, burned in, and would be in thoughts whenever you masturbate for the rest of your pathetic life.
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
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