He hunched over, his forehead dropping to the pillow next to her head, his arms straining with the effort it took to stay slow, not wanting to rush. H...r hands ran up the sides of his lean torso, up to his shoulders, and gripped his upper arms, running her hands over the tense muscles. She didn’t know how much more she could take. A sheen of perspiration covered them both, the slickness accentuated by the moonlight, the cool breeze barely felt by either. her head arched back into the pillow. He took all the power I eagerly handed him so willingly and used me for his personal gain in life.Joey hurt me more times than I care to remember. I cried enough tears to fill a man-made lake; those adolescent years were some rough times. The attention he offered was just enough to keep me holding on, enough for me to remain liking and caring about him instead of wanting to leave and hating him for the hurt he caused me. What a naïve adolescent I was, so forgiving. Now I am older and wiser and. More

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