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Hungry.

My head was full of you the entire way home, and I wondered if that is just your natural expression or if that was for me. I was negotiating, these were serious talks about what I could do to get what I wanted. He is a man, after all, and still subject to all of the dirty tricks I can play.
I thought long and hard of ways to be full as it seems my desire does not just leave my belly wanting. I was so caught up I just wanted to pull over to find release. I hoped that I could catch someone's eye, anyone, but no one looks at me any more.
I don't think you have the violence I am craving, or you do but you are so practiced at being good that I will never see it. That is what I want. And so I believe this is a tease. Like fingers tracing the edge of panties, hands grabbing fistfuls of hip late at night, waking me, waiting for me to roll over to expose my soft underbelly. Will you ask me these questions, or is this clear? Can you hurt me so softly it doesn't hurt you? Can you cross that line before we get to it?
I plotted. I am plotting. To do a wife's duty with all of the years of practice I have. It should be easy. But I imagine your hands. I will tonight, however I get full.

7:13 p.m. - 2013-01-03

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