God help, she was so beautiful in that manner, then it will shift again the way she treated me like fire and ice, gentle and cold, soft and mean. Why I felt this way is because I still have the trauma of being tortured. or me liking her.
That word took my mind off. I looked at her face upwards, then looked back and forth at those scars. It just blew my mind right away; I almost dropped my jaw on the floor. I didn't realize it caught me off guard and what to think at that moment.
I lost phrases; I felt my tongue was stuck inside, but instantly I felt anger. I almost see that private part of her as a woman, but I don't care anymore; she doesn't care at all. She pulled down her pants anyway to show what I needed to see. For me to see those on both sides, two traces of scars in hers a few inches from femininity, while her underclothes reside. But it's almost visible from being so close.