ForbiddenPassion

In my private locker, the metal door swings wide. Heart pounds. This stays buried. Usually. But sharing it now? Pure rush. Exhibitionist thrill. You get it raw. Paris, Christmas Eve. War just ended, another brewing. Truce night. Snow blankets everything. Bitter cold grips the city. I’m bundled tight, boots crunching ice. Heading to Jean-Pierre’s. My…