’ No, not correct, he rewrites. ‘Dear xxxxxxx, Our time together was too sweet for my memories, I feel them, like in those silly romance movies we...never watched together, filled with background music. Yes, I can actually remember our times together as if floating in a song…’ He pauses a long moment, knowing that while the music he speaks of could be contained in a song by Tool, Nine Inch Nails, Dave Matthews Band or even Simon and Garfunkel, it would be inappropriate. Love is a song to him. . No longer thinking so much as reacting. A complete awareness of every nerve in my body. I feel every coil of the tight ropes around my wrists and ankles. Feel the throbbing of the pulse in my wrists where I pulled the lines even tighter with struggling. The feeling of cool air on my pussy and asshole, still wet and gaping. The ache in my nipples, the crackling of hardened wax all over, and dull throbbing from the welts still swelling on my ass. Lying there, tied spread eagle to a table top,. More

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