If you must know… She smells of rosewater when the ease of her settles into me. She feels like the calm of a lifetime reaching out and setting me free If you must know: She feels like she’s never been touched by another. As if her skin came alive, erect from my touch. A flame ignited between each other. If you must… Her skin smells like pomegranate and the fruit of passion, and feels like silk, the whisper of satin. Her b...

There is a moment after readiness, before action, when time thickens instead of moving. My body was stretched open and plugged shut. Well, my ass was. I felt the large plug pressing between the surface of the table and the shape of my cunt. The last tremors of my orgasm made it thrum inside me like a self-propelled vibrator intent on making me cum again. I existed there like their fantasy, their trophy. I was positioned a...

Sitting through another lecture with Professor McArthur was an ache turned molten. Through the entire first semester, I’d let my mind wander, wondering just how his voice would curl down my spine if he called me baby. Some days I’ll just sit there—wide-legged, feeling the heat rise—biting my lip as the wet soaks into my jeans, and his voice fills my head. Once, I’d moaned. Friday nights were spent hanging out with the oth...

It’s one of the quiet times, when I see a furrow between your eyes or a stare held too long on something intangible. It is as if you’ve paused yourself, or the noise has grown so loud it doesn’t break into a storm but freezes everything instead. I sense a little friction in you, a kind of contradiction where the body says one thing and the mind another. Imagine this, if you will, as a movie scene, captured in a single, un...