A Mother's War

A Mother's War

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing26m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, May 20, 2019
Robert Eustace Smith was an ordinary boy,with an ordinary life...But he had a secret-something worth killing for. Emilia Sofia Kotter was the judiciary powerhouse of her time with a stellar career-however there was something missing,something she needed to make her life complete. It was something she could never have-and she knew it. This was her reality-much to her disappointment. "Ms. Kotter... Are you okay?" The therapist spoke in hushed tones,only letting the slightest tinge of impatience invade his otherwise calm demeanour. She knew instantly...she had been playing this way since she before she could remember.She knew in the back of her mind she didn't have to do this now;even with her experience,this was a gamble.Even so,she knew it was the only way to finish this now-it was too important.Whatever happened next,he deserved to be remembered. And so she spoke. I
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"N-No... don't stop. Don't fucking stop." I replied and hugged him tightly, my voice thick with desperation and longing for him but I don't fucking care now. "I want this and I want you....Now." "I-I....I can't do this to you but. It would be...just fucking from my side Alysia." He replied softly while his one hand went on my hair, brushing my locks away from my face and the other around my waist, caressing it softly over the fabric. I know it would be just fucking from his side. I know he will never like me like I do. I know he will never want me like I do. I know he will never care for me like I do. I know everything, Smith. But still, the forbidden craving to get touched by him, to get touched by my... husband, overpowered my ability to make the correct decision and I gave up. I fucking gave up myself to him. *** Under Confident and disappointed Alysia Marie Johnson. Cold and Insecure Smith James Parker. They are two lost pieces of the same puzzle looking for peace. Read to find out what happens when they meet each other after 4 years. . . . . .

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