Four years since we broke up. Four years since we slept together. Two years since I’ve seen you. I loved you. I hated you. I love you. I hate you.
We were each others firsts to escape the boring vanilla world. Though *tame* at the time, you liked you hair pulled, your ass spanked and to be fucked hard.
It’s our friends wedding. I’m there, you’re there. We go outside, we get to talking. You are skinnier (I liked your curves) You cut your hair (I liked when you put it in a ponytail so I could pull it) We talk about the bad stuff, we’ve grown, we’ve evolved. We try remember the good times. They were good.
“There was one thing we were always good at together” – she said while cracking a cheeky smile. “We did that a lot” – I replied. We both laugh. Though the conversation is good, the tension is still there. There was a lot put into this but there is still some hatred there. At this point I’m thinking I need to fuck her and I know she is thinking this too. Fuck she looks so hot in her red dress.