Passion

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 Here I am again. Another bed. The silken sheets cleaved to our sweaty bodies as I neared the climax of my performance. I could hear the woman, whatever her name was, moan in pleasure. She muttered something in my ear. I think it was French. I tried focusing on what I was doing. I could feel her hot, wet pussy engulf my cock… But something was missing.  She clawed at my back as she came again. What was it, something like three times now? She was an animal. Don’t get me wrong, if felt fantastic, but I couldn’t enjoy it. With a few more thrusts I pulled out and moved back. She hungrily lapped at my little toy. Licking my wound. Hot cum drizzled out the tip, and into her mouth. It was beautiful, but still no enjoyment.  I slowly got dressed and made my way for the door. I felt so empty and hollow. Never was there a lonely man such as I. I left my car at the bar. I was way to drunk to drive at that point. The long walk home gave me time to think. What was it I was missing? As I took in deep gulps of fresh August air I pondered what it was I was so desperately seeking every night. Woman after woman couldn’t rekindle the dwindling fire that burned within my soul.  I thought about what was so great the first time. It was a new adventure. My first girlfriend. What we had then was what I lack now. PASSION. Passion is what makes sex. Its not the thrusting, the licking, or the cumming that made it great. It was the passion. But we broke up, and all the passion left. After a little time alone I was ready to date again. But burn after burn left me scarred. I couldn’t find peace with lovers anymore. No one cared.  Well… that is to say, no one cared except for her. Rose. My sister. But she was istanbul travesti forbidden fruit. She was something that was off limits. She took care of me when I was in need. Every time my depression got bad, she was there to hold me, and tell me everything was going to be okay. When I close my eyes at night its her I see. I can smell her on my clothes sometimes.  It was still wrong though. It was my sister. I fought these feelings for such a long time. Not tonight. I found myself walking towards her house. I don’t remember making the conscious decision to do it, I just started walking, and stopped outside her apartment. I used the key she had given me to enter, making my way upstairs. She must have still been awake. She left the bar soon after I did with whatever woman I just crawled away from.  “Rose. Thank God you’re still awake,” I drunkenly slurred out. “There’s something I’ve needed to tell you for a long time. I Love you so much. I’ve always wanted you. Ever since we were kids. I see you in my dreams every night. I can smell your fragrance wherever I go. I need you to be with me.” She just sat, and stared blankly at me. She was shocked. I was drunk, so I didn’t care anymore if she knew. She got up and sat me on the couch, taking my shirt off, and putting a blanket on me. “You need to get your rest, my love.” My love… she normally called me big bro. There was something different in her voice, but I was drunk. Everything slowly faded as I succumbed to sleep. Next Morning Where am I? Oh God this headache is killing me. What did I do last night? And how did I end up at Rose’s apartment? All these questions burned through my mind, as pancakes filled istanbul travestileri my nostrils.  I trudged into the kitchen to look at the full meal laid out before me. Rose had cooked me breakfast.  “Good morning,” was all I could squeeze out through this massive hangover. “Good morning, bro” Her voice was so soft.  “Wild night, huh?” I asked, wondering if she knew how I had gotten to her apartment. “Yeah, especially when you stumbled in here confessing your love to me at 2 in the morning”  My coffee was all over the place as coughed it all up, choking after hearing what she just said. I remembered everything now. What have I done? I thought to myself. I had to do damage control. But what could I say.  I finished the meal in silence and left as quickly as possible. What was wrong with me? I told my sister I loved her. My SISTER. And it wasn’t like you would normally tell a family member you love them. I told her I wanted her. I lusted for her. How could I ever see her again? And yet when I got home there was a message in my in-box.   It went like this: Dear brother of mine, Please come to my house three days from now for dinner so we can talk. There are things you said last night that need to be cleared. I would like you to come dressed up, if possible. Love, Rose– I was just as confused now as I was before. I re-read the message several times, trying to gain some hidden meaning from it. She probably hated me. This could be our last meal together. She probably is going to tell me to never talk to her again. I dreaded the night. Work was hell. The next three days dragged by slowly. The clock ticked by. Seconds went by like minutes, minutes travesti like hours, hours like days. Finally the day of judgment was upon me. I clocked out, and took the long drive home. My last suit. I put on the black pants, the belt, and a nice dark red shirt. If this was the last time I was going to see her I wanted to at least look good. After all my preparations were made I went outside and walked to her house. What hurry was I in? The more time I had to think, the better. I tried thinking of things to say to her. Maybe I can downplay what I said? I could be casual about it, and just pass it off as drunk babel. I knew that wouldn’t work though. I looked her in the eyes and I said it with meaning. The closer I got to her house, the clearer my head became. By the time I reached for the doorknob all thoughts of lying to her had left. I would stand by what I said. If she never wanted to talk to me again, I at least knew I tried. I would rather live life without her, knowing I can’t be with her, than live life always wondering.  When I entered her apartment, things were not what I had imagined. It was like a scene out of a noir film. The first thing I noticed was the dark lighting. Candles were lit everywhere, setting the atmosphere for the night to come. The air was thick with a smokey perfume. Sinatra was playing softly in the background as I walked into the dining room. The dinner table was set like an expensive restaurant, the food masterfully prepared.  And then she caught my eye. THIS was not what I expected at all. Rose stood before me now, in a long red dress, with a cut up one of the legs, revealing just enough of her tantalizing skin. Her hair was long, black, and flowing down her smooth back. She walked elegantly towards me, taking me by the hand, leading me to the living room which had been cleared. It was a private dance floor for two lovers. “Rose, what is all of-” She put a finger to my lip and cut me off before I could finish my sentence. “Don’t talk now.

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