Men beg to touch my body. Yet, Dusty’s moves against mine with unspeaking eloquence. My heart stammers when we’re alone. I hate that I love the strength of his arms. I love that I hate it too. The feeling keeps me sane because when we’re apart, doubt creeps in.
I’m ashamed to admit my fears about what happens if everyone finds out we’ve been hooking up. Along with the guilt, come the horrible thoughts I shouldn't have about Dusty’s disability. Perhaps those emotions are a sign ...
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                    Men beg to touch my body. Yet, Dusty’s moves against mine with unspeaking eloquence. My heart stammers when we’re alone. I hate that I love the strength of his arms. I love that I hate it too. The feeling keeps me sane because when we’re apart, doubt creeps in.
I’m ashamed to admit my fears about what happens if everyone finds out we’ve been hooking up. Along with the guilt, come the horrible thoughts I shouldn't have about Dusty’s disability. Perhaps those emotions are a sign I’m not a good person and there is a sliver of truth that I don’t deserve a better life.
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