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What Is Love?

I could see the fear in her baby blue eyes. They were like shiny glass marbles as tears flooded her retina. She tried to scream, but her words were caught deep within her diaphragm. Only a faint whisper could be heard.

Her hair laid back dangling from her head and touching the floor, and with the smooth precision of a silky mop, it gently brazed against the ceramic tiles. She desperately tried to catch her breath and she held unto my wrists as her baby blue eyes started to fade to a dull and opaque color.

Her veins popped out of her neck. They resembled an elongated bubble. She was sweating. I heard nothing. She said nothing. There was silence. Then, I saw doubt in her eyes. I saw an uncontrollable fear which is exhibited from not knowing.

"Please," she said in the faintest whisper. She gripped my wrists tighter.

I then took my hands from around her neck and she gasped and coughed for what air her nostrils could retrieve. I pulled her upright.

After some time, her labored breathing and coughing left and she sat on my lap smiling.

She said she liked it. As a matter of fact, she adored it. She hugged and kissed me.

"Can we do it again tomorrow? She inquired in her blissful state.

"Of course," I said. "How close do you want to go?" I asked.

"As close to death as I can get, "she replied.

She wanted me to choke her again tomorrow. But, this time she wanted me to wrap my hands around her neck until death was almost imminent. She got off on it. It was her fetish.

She needed to almost die-to live. It was how she loved me. It was how I loved her. It was how we loved one another.

Story by:

D. Troy Johnson

tj87jt@yahoo.com

12 September 2014