Masliece-CA

She knew without a doubt that she was far too creative to worry about right or wrong.The temptation to let the politicians and the generals rule the world and leave ordinary people alone rode her shoulders like a shroud of disturbing unconcern. When she was younger like that time almost twenty years ago in Venice, she had the fire in her belly to change the world.To make it a better place.She so much wanted a cleaner place with no nuclear waste, no smog to dirty the air, no dirt to clog the water supply and no violence to prey on the weaker parts of society in ways that degraded all humanity.In the rosy atmosphere of her youth, she assumed everyone wanted that. At the very least, everyone should want it if they understood the challenges of the alternatives and the risky avenues of a world less idealistic.While the airplane was still in the air, she wondered if Venice would look the same.One looks at photos and the answer seems obvious. Of course it does. It remains the same because. "Come for me, Peter, come inside me... let me hear you," she gasped, opening her eyes again to look into mine, holding my gaze as the pressure inside me built until at last the floodgates broke and I came inside her in anguished streaks of pleasure, only just aware that she was moaning along with me, her hips going wild as an orgasm took her. For interminable moments we came together, in a frenzied tangle of bounding hips and thrashing limbs, until at last we calmed and I lay on her, panting, feeling her heart pound inside her chest. I could feel my penis twitching inside her in the final throes of our orgasm, and I watched her breathe hard, her head flung back, her eyes shut, her face flushed. After a time I pulled out, lying at her side, holding her. I kissed her face tenderly and she began to cry, soundlessly, gently, as I held her to me. "I can't ever leave you, Peter, I can't leave this, us..." I could only nod, holding her until her tears subsided and she drifted to sleep. I.
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