Damaris looked in the mirror, and she saw Carole. Not as a ghost, but herself as Carole. They had looked alike as young girls but now…it was undeniable how much she looked like her dearly departed sister. She dyed her hair the color Carole’s was, and she was poised to take her place.
But she couldn’t.
Even in her death, Carole eclipsed her.
Damaris threw the mirror to the ground, when the tears came to her eyes again.
All of her life she was second place to Carole. Because even though she looked “classier,” she was the one who people thought was unapproachable. They liked Carole because she was the sister who was more down to earth, more bohemian.
Damaris had only ever wanted to be loved herself, and she thought that Gui had loved her but he loved Carole and was just using her in her place.
She was not even a good replacement Carole.
She was staying now in Carole’s apartment in Paris—she did not want to be in London anymore. But she was terribly lonely, so she went to the bar that was nearby. When people first could not keep their eyes off of her, she realized that they probably thought she was Carole reincarnated.
She was not.
A man walked in—not from there—and looked at her. He would be the one to help her stave off her loneliness for the night. In the doorjamb of the apartment, she looked at him with pursed lips eager as if she was under the mistletoe.
He kissed her, his hunger for her lips made her wonder what he was trying to stave off—did it matter? He pulled her onto the terrace, Paris watched as her kissed her lips like he was fucking them roughly. They throbbed with hunger when he pulled her away from him and looked at her licking his lips.
Her lips still pursed, her hunger was sharp and she was thankfully not alone…
More Masturbation Monday here
photo via Molly Moore
I knew Damaris had issues. I just knew it! Now, of course, the question is…what happens next?
not sure!☺️