Puja (1)

“Coming,” she yelled, as she slid the closet door closed. It caught on an errant shoe, and she gave it an extra hard shove, pulling it off the rollers. It made a loud crashing sound as it fell outward, grazing Carla’s knee, and putting a huge hole in her stocking. “DAMN!” she said loudly, just as the doorbell rang again, insistently. Flustered now, she ran her left hand through her hair, and was astonished to feel it catch on a broken fingernail. “Oh, FUCK!” she exclaimed, and began crying. The doorbell rang again. Carla limped across the living room and opened the door. Doris strode into the room purposefully, saying, “I was beginning to think …” and stopped herself, as she looked Carla up and down. What she saw before her was not a pretty sight. Carla’s hair was a tangled mess. There was a big glob of red paint in it, right at the crown. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her mascara was making black tracks down her cheeks and onto her neck. She had one shoe off, and there was a. At his neck, her mouth formed words."But come. I have no desire to harm you." She pulled herself forward and pressed her body against him. "Let us forget," she whispered into his shoulder, "For now." By tomorrow's dawn, she intended to disappear and feign that she had not seen him.But for now she wanted to touch him.He did not want her. He repeated it in his head to block out what she was saying. Until she laid hands on him, he was strong. Until she gripped his erect manhood in her hands, he had resolve. He lost everything when she lifted a leg and allowed him to slide inside.He pulled her with him, kissing her so strongly he was sure she must break. He folded her legs around him and pushed her back against the wall. Supporting her with his hands, he thrust into her, hearing the noises she made. He used her as ruthlessly as she used him. When she came, her scream was so laden with sexuality, it induced his release. They subsided to the bed again to rest.She pushed all her discarded.
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