There could be no bridge from him to me. There could be no mutual bridge-building to meet at the middle. Any bridge between us now had to be built ent...rely by me, but I had to accept that he could most likely not bear to ever trust me again. The most I could hope for was to regain some of his respect and that would have to be earned. In layman's terms, abuse victims can reach a point where their 'spirit' can never be mended enough to enjoy life. It was a survival act for him to flee from me, so. Anything at all."She turned and went down the flagstone steps to her car. She drove away without looking back, trying to keep the choking sobs that she knew were fighting to get out of her throat at bay. She didn't want Deshona to get the satisfaction of seeing her cry, even from a distance.At first her eyes blurred with tears, but she soon got control, turned the radio up loud, opened the window, and let the wind ruffle her hair. She had reached South San Francisco before her cellular phone. It was only a week. Maybe the upset of her injury and hospitalization had caused her to be late. Could something like that make a woman skip? She’d never skipped a period before. Of course she’d never let a man ejaculate in her bareback, before, either. She hadn’t made Bobby use a condom. She didn’t even have a condom in the house. She didn’t need condoms.She remembered telling him she needed to get some condoms.Her finger traced back on the calendar to the day they had made love. The knot in. My lips part slightly at the sight of your shoulder. I lean forward, getting my lips to nearly touch it. A slow, warm, steady breath leaves my mouth. I breathe over your shoulder, my hand slightly lifting. Using a waving gesture, my hand caresses your thigh. At times my fingers curl, putting pressure on your leg, but always returning to rest flat on your thigh. I move my lips even closer. I feel a light tickle every time my lips accidentally brush your skin. I look up to see that your eyes have.
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