Diary Of A Passion 소설 & 이야기

“Aaaaahh.... Nathan..... Oh my God..... “ I wail and become so conflicted. I want to hold something to contain the pleasure but I don't know what to hold on to. “Aaahhhhh......“. I cross my eyes as I orgasm as hard as ever arching my back against the bed shivering and groaning. All I can see is the mixture of red and black. I feel like I am going to pass out soon. He doesn't stop pounding me sustaining the pleasure and I can't Help but weep. It's just too much to take in. “Nathan...... Aaaahh......“ I groan. He groans and pulls away, spinning me around furiously. “ Aaaahh.....“ I wail as he plunges into me from behind gripping my waist. Oh my god. This event is going down in my diary. FUCK!

This passion is often characterized by a mixture of emotions, including desire, hope, challenge, and often, frustration. The challenge of an almost impossible passion often lies in practical, social, cultural, or personal obstacles that make it difficult or even prohibitive to pursue or attain the object of our affection. This can occur, for example, when we fall for someone who lives a great distance away, belongs to a different social group, or is in a relationship with someone else. These obstacles can turn the passion into a complex emotional dilemma, leaving us torn between what we want and what seems possible.

I'm thankful that I don't have any close family members, that I still have a lot of money, and that I can buy love when I need it, which isn't often given the circumstances. What precisely persuades individuals to keep diaries? because egotism is inherent. Self-interest is the most fascinating thing there is. Regardless of how long you expound on your sentiments, diaries can't make you wheeze! Something thoughtful is a clear, white page that is hanging tight for one's impressions!

Starved Passion::: The next day, Davin couldn't concentrate at work, he had gotten a hold of himself after ravishing Ivana that night, often times he tried harder to focus, all he could see was her naked body, legs parted open beckoning him to possess her. Davin let out a loud sigh, he could feel the tightness in his trouser, his hardening cock pressing against his brief, he wanted her now. Picking his car key, he dialed Ivana,

scenes like Luciano not stopping and kissing her all the way to his bedroom and then tearing their clothes off. “Danielle! Stop it! You can’t keep thinking about that fucking kiss, please,” She begged herself. She gave up trying to sleep and got out of bed. She picked up her diary and walked to her living room. She sat down and opened the book. Unlike other people’s diaries, hers wasn’t used to write things that happened to her down but was used to write what she wanted to do. She scrapped everything that had to do with Luciano and his company. She wanted to tear the pages but realized they were just too much. She opened the beginning of the diary and slowly flipped the pages. They were all

, she whispered as vow-repungnance hit her, she grabbed the basin to stand herself firmly. " It felt vulnerable Hayden!, so weak, Is this what called longing in passion? In which you've left with nothing but only helplessness!, a deep well of deprivation, which kill your soul from time to time...", Letting her tired shoulders down in defeat, her tears kept cascading down, and her lips felt the taste of pure bitterness. "When did I become so weak ?, from when did apart from you, I'd approved of someone to touch me; trapped me in devil palms, allowing him to let his desires ruin me the way he wants".

Tears run down my cheeks. “Breed me… Daddy… Please…” Orgasm rips through my body, tearing me apart just to build me back up and break me all over again. I remain collapsed in bed, shuddering. Teeth gritting. Breath escaping my throat as hard gasps. “Please…” I curl up in bed, sobbing. Senses returning after my insanity. Damn the consequences, the only ‘Good Girl’ I want to be right now, is Dominic Mercer’s. Slowly, I crawl to the drawer and pull out my little pink diary, uncork the pen, and start scribbling. Even I am jealous of how the tip of the pen fuck the paper so well, leaving its fluid along each trail.

On a whim, I even tried my own birthday. Still wrong. Annoyed, I began trying every date that had ever mattered to him. Until finally, with a soft click, the lock sprang open. The password was 0918. I froze. That was the day I first met him in this world. Inside the box was a diary. Reading someone’s private journal was immoral. But I never pretended to have morals. So I opened it without hesitation. September 18, 1983 Someone barged into my life out of nowhere. What does she want?