A Bath with Bourbon

Image Credit: http://tragedyinprogress.deviantart.com

A smile escapes from her lips, slithering across her face like a red bourbon river. Her hands quiver with the excruciating pleasure of “I shouldn’t do this,” leaving behind his pleading whispers of “please don’t do this.” The room erupts in shrieks of arms, legs, and empty eyes.

Water brushes against his skin, withering it with tiny, forbidden beads. His hair rises, severing the circular drops into splits of 1, 2, yes, no, 3, 4, reverberating in his mind as it expands and multiplies. Her smile is reflected in his water, rusted red by her moistened lips. He closes his eyes and sees only hers, again and again and again.

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