Her Treasurey 

It was a cool Friday in Chicago, where a well built woman jogged in the park. Surprisingly silence filled the park. The absence of angry taxi drivers honking their horns and screaming hot dog salesman made her feel strange. As she circled the art displays along the curvy paths, pop music substituted the natural worldly noises. Sweat flowed down her legs into her shoes while her heart continued to beat fast. The jog was calm and peaceful until she stopped to take a break and a hand covered her mouth. She was pulled into a thicket where she lay on the itchy grass with another body on top of her. The stranger hands began to wander all over her sweetness that is her bare fruit. The woman kicks of fury as the stranger continues to rob her of her innocence. Tears form and join the pool of sweat in her hair that is held together by a small black elastic. The stranger’s tongue slides in between her spacious cleavage, sampling her salty sweat. Groans of pleasure emerged as he screams and beg for the feel up to stop. Kisses are planted on every inch of her exposed and desirable legs She squirms in discomfort and claws at the mask with her free hand. The stranger then tugs at her clothing. After tearing off her tank top that covers her pink sports bra the stranger begins to peel off her leggings. Before the filthy hands could reach inside of her lady door, hope was found. Someone heard her. Someone cares about what’s going on. Someone helped. Someone stopped it.

Written By: Arganise Campbell-Nash


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