remote remorse in reminiscing

She wore the same skimpy camouflage shorts matched with a tight-fit tank-top on the soldier video.
24 year old Beyonce flashed her mesmerizing sexy aura on me.

She gave me a warm kiss as she positioned herself on my lap.
She ticled my ear with her soft whispers.
I reciprocated her actions. I gave her a soft caress on the thighs.
I drove my lips all over her neck down to her chest.
I felt her body undulate as she kept pace with her panting.
I felt her hands on my chest.
My lips found hers and we exchanged passion through our breath.

After more or less five minutes of sharing passion, she looked at me innocently and spoke about herself.
At first I thought we were conversing in english, but it was not purely english at all.
The language of our discourse appeared as if it was distorted american, mexican and filipino english.

She arranged herself in such a position that she can fully see my face.
She started sharing things about herself.
She told me about her relationship with her boyfriend.
She told that although her boyfriend provided her wiyth almost every materiual thing that she needs, she felt incomplete.
She was spontaneous about herself.
She told me things about her family, her friends, and almost anything about herself.
It appeared to me as if she made a total self disclosure and then cried.

She gave me another kiss and thanked me for the attention that I've been giving her, that it's more than enough than making her the queen of the world.

"I have to go. I have work to do. bye."

She gave me another kiss on the cheek before she wore her face mask and left me alone, sitting on the couch, watching the soldier video.

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