SEED
There was nothing even remotely seductive about it, but
she let his thick clumsy fingers continue their exploration of her cold, dry, rigid
body despite her boredom.
After all, it was what she did best, from the bedroom to
the boardroom she allowed people (men for the most part), to pull, and prod,
and poke, and fondle her ineptly.
She was numb to the plights of her femininity at this
point, which is why she was glad to have something to focus on as this, latest
in a long line of patriarchal mistakes, sweated onto her forehead.
A pure white lily,
surrounded by three tall blades of grass stood, protruding from a black ceramic
vase, in the corner of the room, and this is where her gaze lay as huffed and
puffed and pumped her full of emptiness.
He left the room hastily, zipping up his trousers and
gripping his tie in his hand, he said nothing, not even thanks, she lay for a
moment and stared at the ceiling, then she wiped his seed from her thigh using
the tousled bed sheet, stood up, fixed her skirt and hair, plucked a blade of
grass from the vase, and left the room too.
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