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You leave for the gym for a swim, wearing your old, nearly thread-bare black one-piece. You're back five minutes later because you forgot your ID. My hungry eyes catch yours...
This story is an ode to the simple "boring" one-piece bathing suit, the one that you've been wearing for years, that holds your body in all the right places but is now threadbare in spots. The desire to rip it off your body, to tear it to shreds, is a kind of sacrificial worship...
As always comments are welcome and please enjoy it if/when it is filled or just as this little piece of writing.
All characters are 18 and this text is meant to be read by 18 folks.
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- 2 years ago
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- reddit.com/r/GWNarrative...