Writings (About The Past Love)

October Waiting

No one would know that a meeting event between the two witches would happen that day.

One of them was blonde with golden strands and sweet charisma while the brunette was stubborn but loving towards her lover. They both wanted to be good mothers and be effective in their projects; they supported each other with great respect and individual autonomy.

They didn't want their lives to be ruined by being together. They wanted to see each other fly to stardom, but they also had to see each other to nurture their deepest and lustful love.

The blonde witch was the one who most worried about the brunette's whereabouts, but just by closing her eyes she could imagine her with her whitish thighs. She could feel her thumbs brushing her spine and she would achieve a particular moan from her. The brunette had the ability to make her lover well pleased even in dreams; because all she cared about was that she was happy.

She knew that her flower was sacred and she could not kiss it between dreams or insomnia. She had to grace her in person with all the luggage on. The embrace prepared. Her look not at all distant. Her mouth eager to kiss the head with golden threads.

Paradise would open as both witches meet each other's eyes and recognize their realistic love without overtones of planned fiction. No one could film that. Only they would live the essence of knowing each other.

One day the blonde witch would appear in a red Corvette and take her lover for a drive, and she would tell her all the adventures she experienced in Rome, Norway, the United Kingdom and the United States of America. And the brunette would open her eyes in an inescapable way because the gifts would be confessed to her in secret, the hidden ones she did to see her bloom and the times she imagined her naked in her room being with other women. The brown witch would not be angry at the last detail because it was clear to her that number one had always been her.

Last but not least, the brown witch would wear a divine red dress with black low heels while her adored would wear a red jumpsuit with blue jeans. It did not matter the style, but the elegance that one wore the clothes and how importantly one wore them. In the case of both, it was for the same reason: love governed and sealed them forever.