It had been a year since I saw him. He was the man I had loved for as long as I could remember, the man who showed me what bodily pleasures meant, the man that fingered me for the first time until I screamed; aroused by pleasure and pain.
We had hated each other for a year.
He stood there, nervously confident – his molten hazel eyes gleaming with lust and happiness. He looked good. He engulfed my small frame into a hug and firmly placed a kiss on my quivering lips. His soft eager tongue brushed against my hungry mouth and I felt him get hard.
We knew it had to happen. He had only ever been the one to see me naked for 6 years. We knew that the moment we were in, comprised a giant snowball of lust, hatred and love approaching us at mind numbing speed.
He drove me to his building, glancing at me occasionally as I stared at him with passion. He yanked me out of the car, escorted me to his lift and crushed his mouth onto mine as his watchman glanced at our lascivious act through a sliver of the closing lift door.