During the days in which I choose to conform, I do so with a specific feeling in mind that I want to achieve. A sort of climax that I aim to reach. A feeling effortlessly maintained between the ages of 6-9 and again between the ages of 3-15, when being a girl was simply one of the numerous ways of being. There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.

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He Who Has No Name. He made me feel safe. He held on to me. He knew I feared heights. He helped me conquer my fears. He took me to to the clouds. He told me am pretty. He knew I loved sunsets. He took photos of me watching the sunsets. He always teased my small hands. He loved my dimples and kissed my cheeks whenever they appeared. He said my eyes were charming. He loved how small I was. He told me he loved me everyday.

Erotic prose in English and Spanish.