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Focus

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I can't focus.

I keep seeing her.

I tell him to keep talking.

But he's not saying what I want, just telling me how beautiful I am, but I know better. I know what's beautiful and it's red hair instead of black, and it's soft skin instead of hard muscles.

I can't focus.

"Harder," I gasp in his ear.

He moves his hips hard and slow, making it a struggle to keep my breath.

I close my eyes and see her under me,

My hand slides down my stomach.

I imagine her moaning and arching against me,

My fingers start to rub tight circles over nerves where his body is moving against mine.

I picture her moaning and moving her body against mine,

He tries to kiss me, but I quickly move my mouth to his neck, sucking hard and biting down.

I imagine it's her neck I'm marking,

I tell him I'm coming, thinking about how she would sound saying it, pleading tones and begging eyes, then I'm there, hard and fast. Feeling waves crash through me. Over and over and over.

Once I come down, he's there, wrapping his arms around me and telling me he loves me.

And it makes me feel nauseous.