I caress my breasts til my nipples are hard. With my other hand I unbutton my pants. Bang! I’m pretty startled. A jar of paint fell of the shelf. I pick the rusty thing up and put it back between the others. When I look through the little hole in the wall, John has disappeared. …
What I had with John was a thunderstorm. It was full of lightening and wind and drama and passion.
The Jarlena Journal 