Bassim
VIP Member
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2008
- Member Type
- Student or Learner
- Native Language
- Bosnian
- Home Country
- Bosnia Herzegovina
- Current Location
- Sweden
Please, would you proofread the second part of my story.
Once Aisha was invited to a party organized by her colleague Anita. She was divorced and now lived an exciting life throwing parties now and then, with drugs and alcohol in abundance. Aisha went there with her best clothes and with golden necklaces around her slender neck and golden rings on her fingers. When she opened the door and saw him dancing her heart leapt. Never before she felt such a warmth suffusing her body. Her cheeks were glowing, she was trembling like a leaf. There were about a dozen people in the room, but she did not see them. Her eyes were glued to him, to his muscular body which moved with easiness of a professional dancer. The man was tall and had black hair which was tousled after all his dancing and sweating. The music was loud; a banal Swedish pop. There was a smell of cannabis mixed with cigarettes and alcohol.
She found Anita in her kitchen making sandwiches and her first question was about the man in a white t-shirt dancing like a God. Anita told her that his name was Murad. He was from Turkey but had been living in Sweden for years. She did not know him so well. He was a friend of another person who already had left, but she had heard Murad was very friendly and talkative.
Soon, Aisha and Murad chatted as they had known each other for years. He made her laugh, he was marvellous at telling jokes. She could not remember if she ever laughed in her life so much before. The man was not only handsome but also intelligent and that made him more attractive in her eyes. She was bored with well trained men with bleached hair who used to spend hours in a gym and a solarium, but whose brains were incapable of an ordinary conversation.
Murad followed her to her flat. She had hardly closed the door behind them when she was moaning with pleasure under his body. He was the lover every women would like to have beside her twenty four hours a day. His soft fingers could find all the spots on her body which made her aroused. He was reading her skin like a book, he communicated with her brain without uttering the word.
That night they did not sleep at all. He left at six in the morning promising her to come back in the afternoon. This time she bought wine, beer and whisky and cooked delicious food.
To be continued.
Once Aisha was invited to a party organized by her colleague Anita. She was divorced and now lived an exciting life throwing parties now and then, with drugs and alcohol in abundance. Aisha went there with her best clothes and with golden necklaces around her slender neck and golden rings on her fingers. When she opened the door and saw him dancing her heart leapt. Never before she felt such a warmth suffusing her body. Her cheeks were glowing, she was trembling like a leaf. There were about a dozen people in the room, but she did not see them. Her eyes were glued to him, to his muscular body which moved with easiness of a professional dancer. The man was tall and had black hair which was tousled after all his dancing and sweating. The music was loud; a banal Swedish pop. There was a smell of cannabis mixed with cigarettes and alcohol.
She found Anita in her kitchen making sandwiches and her first question was about the man in a white t-shirt dancing like a God. Anita told her that his name was Murad. He was from Turkey but had been living in Sweden for years. She did not know him so well. He was a friend of another person who already had left, but she had heard Murad was very friendly and talkative.
Soon, Aisha and Murad chatted as they had known each other for years. He made her laugh, he was marvellous at telling jokes. She could not remember if she ever laughed in her life so much before. The man was not only handsome but also intelligent and that made him more attractive in her eyes. She was bored with well trained men with bleached hair who used to spend hours in a gym and a solarium, but whose brains were incapable of an ordinary conversation.
Murad followed her to her flat. She had hardly closed the door behind them when she was moaning with pleasure under his body. He was the lover every women would like to have beside her twenty four hours a day. His soft fingers could find all the spots on her body which made her aroused. He was reading her skin like a book, he communicated with her brain without uttering the word.
That night they did not sleep at all. He left at six in the morning promising her to come back in the afternoon. This time she bought wine, beer and whisky and cooked delicious food.
To be continued.