I surrendered. I was on my knees. He had the power to destroy me. Or bring me back to life. He chose the latter. Then he took me, over and over again. He invaded my body with his raw strenght, making me melt under his muscles. Every inch of me was his to hold, touch, kiss and ruin. I didn’t look into his eyes, not even for a second. I watched my bare feet on the floor as he made love to me.

That’s when I became an addict. His lips were my cocaine, his touch – my heroine. I wanted more. I could barely breath without my dose of him. Some days I got all I could take. Others – I stood there alone, waiting.

I was never clean after that first night. Truth to be told, I never tried to escape. It wasn’t a trap to escape from. It wasn’t a nightmare to be saved from. It was love. And I was an addict.




M. Stefanova, 27 December 2012



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