She knew what she was getting into, when
she called him on a date. Something about
him was pathetically dangerous, yet she
got attracted by his glamour. She met him,
danced along with him, swaying her lips
from left to right, brushing her hair over
his face, feeling him all over, yet she felt
***** with him. She felt some coarse vibes
coming from him, yet she surrendered
herself intimately. He felt her all over,
yanking her skirt, pulling her towards him.
It was getting kinda blurry when the clock
turned twelve and the alcohol started
touching her nerves. Kissing her lips,
whispering ***** deeds in her ears, she’s
listening yet without any emotions. She’s
losing herself, particularly to feel no pain,
but she doesn’t know that nothing is what
she will gain.

Now the other aspect of story, where I
come from behind and jolt him towards the
wall, breaking his spine. How dare he
touched my girl, she is silly, I know, but
she’s all I have. She pushes me to save
him, bending down to check his bruise. But  
I know better about her heart, her feelings
for me at the moment are bitter, but she’s
true at heart. I think her love is stored in a
vial, long slender and difficult to pull out,
but my friends say I am in denial. Hey lord,
help me ! Lead me to a way with
tranquility.

©anothergirlwithfantasies