The grandest war of history started all so slowly from the perspective of one living in New York; an assassination, recriminations, bluffs, harsh word..., then the gradual mobilization. As I read about it, I was certain that sanity would prevail. Obviously, the great powers could not go to war on this slim provocation. But the stated reasons were not the real reasons and Europe blundered into a ghastly war with the old Dynastic powers of the center sure they could wipe out these democratic. I let my hand off your arm for one brief moment and slap you Hard on the ass. “Oowwww!’ you yelp.“Be careful going down the stairs…or do I have to carry you?” You look me in the eyes and decide that it might be better just to go down the stairs rather than fall and break your neck. You lead the way down, ever aware of my hand in your hair. I drag you to the door and hold you by the hair as I struggle with the key. When I get the door open I push you inside. You are suddenly in a room unlike. They moved out of the hotel and I kept sitting in the manager cabin. One hour later my boyfriend texted me that he was on the move and the manager was on the move towards me. He also said that things were done as expected.As expected the manager arrived in 30 minutes and came straight to the cabin. He offered me a glass of water and then told me about my boyfriend. I objected that he was my husband. He smiled and said that he was my boyfriend who ran away leaving me behind.He asked me to clear. Edging, one finger in my bum, two of the other hand buried in my slit, pausing their previous come-hither motion. My skin flushed. Burned. Alive with dirty, pent-up thoughts of slippery, hot salty cum covering me. Rubbing it in. Drinking it. Being taken. Used.I held myself there on the precipice, body shaking, awash with natural chemical flotsam. I prolonged the beautiful agony as long as I could, fighting my mind as a flicker book of imagery depicted me drinking boiling cum from pricks large.
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