I don't want you to have to handle it. That's the horror of my past. But you...you're the reality of my present. You're the proof I survived. The prize in the cereal box.
I'm going to make you come harder and longer than you ever have before, baby, and I'm going to feel every shudder, every ripple of that orgasm as it rips through you because I am going to be right here holding tight to you, buried deep inside you. An...
I am not "cured"--I know I never will be. I will always crave that pain to keep me centered. I will always be just a little astounded when I get through a crisis without putting a blade to my flesh.
