I loved her. I did not really now why, but it was not for her big breasts, round ass, beautiful face or lovely smile. I loved all of those as well, but those weren't what really drove me every morning through corridors and heavy doors and cold walls and shiny floors to get to her. The urge was so much deeper, and it was rather the ambiguity of its source that made it so sacred.
All I knew was that I loved her and that was enough. Yet.
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