He runs his hands down my body as he slides my unbuttoned shirt to the floor. The fabric lightly brushes my bare back, and a shiver of anticipation curls up my spine. I stand there as he cusps my breast, skimming my nipple with his thumb, nude before him. He leans in closely, hard body underneath the soft fabric of his shirt. The long hairs on his chin tickle against my jaw. He nips at my neck, grazing his teeth against my skin. I shut my eyes and let him take his time, enjoying the building excitement tingling down my torso. I squeeze my legs together to stop the quaking as our lips meet and begin the ravishing.
It has been this way with no one else, and will never be this way again. This I know, and it causes tears to squeeze out from my eyes now swollen shut. My moan becomes a sob. I run my hand across my stomach, feeling each individual rib between the wrinkles of the thin clothing they have issued to me. I close my eyes and let him continue to ravish me in memory. My hand trails down to my mound, no longer soft and squishy. It is now bony as my body has begun to eat itself. In my memory, he is inside me, waiting. I grab at him and beg him to continue. The vibrations of his laughter travel straight through me, right to the point of our connection.
I tug at the thin fabric of my shirt. A trail of tears grows cold on my cheek. It is either that memory or the one of my daughters screaming out for me while they drag me away, my uncovered feet scraping the asphalt. All of these moments exist at the same time. The only real thing is the cold stone my shoulder blades press against as I lay in my cell. They will come for me again. One of these times I will come back to the present to feel the heat from the guard’s leather boot trapped against my temple seconds before he drags me off. It will do no good. I have forgotten what they wish to know. All that remains are the fragments.
A peek at Cheryl’s story, but written especially for the challenge. This one is going to be really tricky to pull off, but I have several reasons for attempting it. It’s either going to be a story, or it will be a complete train wreck.