General

He leant back momentarily, pulling up his sleeves. His forearms were streaked with green veins that sat comfortably on his silky olive skin. The beauty spots that speckled them jumped at me when he clenched his fists, the veins pulsating with concentration.

By uberfro, November 15, 2015.
General

His arms held me in my place and I winced. They felt like the metal bars that could hold me down as I tumbled down a roller coaster or an anaconda that could squeeze my spirit out of my nostrils. His arms were my tragic hero.

By uberfro, November 15, 2015.