God, the silence in the classroom was excruciating. Luella walked back to her seat slowly, while the awkward atmosphere bit into me. The teacher was s...aring at me somewhat accusingly, and then shook her head and continued with the class. I hated english for this very reason - creativeness led to our personal, hormone-filled teenaged lives, and this was never a good thing. After class, Luella was crying. We'd just broken up a few days ago, or I had broken up with her... but really, her drama. Nothing mattered in the world at all, but the exquisite feeling of her loving lips.It was strange that at that moment I realised that I had not thought about Ann or about that first meeting that morning until then, and the thought aroused no angry or depressive feelings at all. It was as if all that was in another world. That world did not matter; only this world mattered, where this loving woman was healing me gently with her mouth.My eyes were closed, and then it was no longer her mouth, but. More

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