" How did you feel about it?" It felt like I was cheating on him, betraying him in some way. I began to picture his face on the endless nobodies that ... was fucking my way through each day but it was a fool's errand, whenever I looked up I could see him, see the hurt in his eyes as I built to orgasm and the speed at which he left me there when I began to come." Didn't you tell each other how you felt?" How could we? We knew it couldn't make any difference. Our evening conversations became more. I quaked, wide open, owned, on the cusp of a shattering orgasm, grinding against his hand, which made his sudden exit all the more heartless. I cried out in frustration, swishing my head madly. Then he cranked the rope tighter. Tighter. I was jolted awake by my body's safety mechanism when the circulation was cut off. Moments later a battalion of spiky ants began to march through my arm and I rolled onto my back, instinctively wagging to bring the appendage back to life. How long had I been. More

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