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I have always been a liar. And I am a very good liar.

I believed I would be stronger. I wanted to be faithful. Trustworthy. Instead, it is 2AM and I am lying in white cotton sheets of a hotel bed, in a room so quiet I can hear my thoughts. Torn between letting myself enjoy our first night together or replay the reasons why I feel guilty about my lies.

It has been almost two years since I started seeing Jake. Twenty one months, to be exact. We have never been able to spend a night together. Our meetings are shorter than any business meetings I have ever attended. I nearly rip my clothes off, excited to finally be with him and painfully aware of the little time I have left. Kisses are rare. Secondary. But when my lips touch his, I don’t ever want to let go. It tastes of sin. Of perfection. A sensation so hard to describe, but that causes me to constantly bite down my lips, to perhaps help contain my desire. Everything we are, consumes me. For those 30 minutes, I am a different person. It is a different life. …


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They had spent almost half day together, on a truly loving afternoon and evening. Being with him instigated the greatest mix of desire and love she had ever felt in her life. They were lying on the bed, naked, her head resting on his chest, just enjoying each other’s company. Sex was always intense, but somehow, it was never really tiring.

It was time for her to go back to her world. Her reality. So she took a deep breath, let out a sigh, and started getting dressed. After a moment, he walked to her slowly, touched her face and kissed her lips with the intricacy of a last kiss and the softness of a real love. …

About

J.A. Rose

Literature & English major, trying to develop a writing voice…

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