As their lips met in a scorching lip lock formerly more, the world sounded to fall down until there was nothing left but the binary jiffs pounding between them. Michael and Isabella cleaved to each other amid the ambrosial blossoms, bodies intertwined, souls incorporated into one transcendent substance. He was drowning in the intoxicating wispiness of her mouth, the delicate floral scent of her silken permanents. Each part of her nimble fritters against the tense aero planes of his reverse seared through the thin fabric of his shirt, imprinting him with her possession. This was madness, he knew- losing himself so fully in her beguiling snares. Yet Michael set up he did not retain an ounce of restraint to repel Isabella's hot rush. Not when her very actuality awakened solicitations so primitive, so each- consuming that he felt trolled of every history hurt, every moping shred of bitterness. In Isabella's giddy grasp, he was revived. Remade into commodity satiny, sharper, more magnifi

It was the middle of the week and Michael was staying long hours at work, trying to get a solution to the economic crisis in his company. Many of the workers have resigned and many shareholders are selling their shares, lowering the market value of the king's donaldation in the stock exchange market. Many economic analysts and journalists have predicted that things will go worse for donaldation if nothing drastic is done about it. Michael was reading the newspaper of the day in his office when Cynthia, his assistant, knocked on the door and asked to see him.‘Come on Cynthia.’ Cynthia walked briskly to the desk. She was smart as usual with the same professional outlook she had had since the first of their working together. Michael asked. ‘I thought it was past working hours. Why haven’t you gone home?’‘I was putting together the reports sent by the various team leaders and managers of donaldation for you.’‘Okay. But you can do that tomorrow. You should go home to your family.’‘I w

The door of the office opened and Clara walked in. She was holding a gun and pointed it at Michael. Then she said,‘Good evening, Michael west.’Michael turned and looked at the door. He saw it was Clara and stood to ask her why she had come to his office after hours but then he saw the gun. Michael understood what was about to go down. So, he dragged Cynthia by the arm and shielded her with his body. Clara shot multiple times, shooting at the furniture, the computer and at the walls, trying desperately to get to Cynthia. She had come to kill Michael, thinking that he was alone in the office. But when she saw Cynthia dancing with him, though not provocatively, she grew jealous and decided to shoot and kill her.A guard had seen her when she came in. the guard had asked her where she was going and that it was past office hours. When he turned to answer the phone, she was gone. The guard realised that she was on her way to the last floor and suspecting that something was fishy, decided

When they eventually parted, it felt as though a tone had passed in the span of many superheated moments. Michael plodded to reclaim his capacity for rational study amid the whirling, lust- dazed storm of his mind. Questions, vague worries, transitory dubieties flirted around the hazy fringe of his psyche, no way relatively resolving into a coherent shape before dissolving formerly more under the searing brand of Isabella's closeness. " We should." he rasped out, the sound of his voice little further than clay and sin,” We should go to a private place to talk. It is so important I need to ask you to understand." Isabella incontinently shook her head, that unruly groaner mane swaying with the vehement stir," No talking, no questions. Not yet." With passionate insistence, she pressed herself indeed more completely against him until her supple angle smouldered to every tense manly angle. The undulating warmth of her body burned a raging conflagration in Michael's blood, his hands dispe

Liam hasn’t returned my calls for six hours now. I have called him a couple of times. Is he avoiding me? Has he run away from New York City? Does he want to leave me with the baby?I scratched my head and sat on the floor. Liam cannot do this to me. He has to come and carry me; after all I am carrying his baby. I reach out for my phone ringing on the table, wishing he was the one. However, it is my landlady asking for rent. The fool should know I would give her soon.Then a thought entered my mind. I went to my bag and fished out a complimentary card. I had gotten it from Liam’s friend; the one he was always, who had flown into the country for an assignment. We had spoken a couple of times. He seemed really interested in me and since I like to draw attention, I basked in the spotlight he provided. He had asked me about the pregnancy and how I met Liam. I gave him a buttered-up story and he seemed to believe it. The last time we met, before his disappearance, he gave me this compliment