He was still so hard. I felt his hands on my ass, pulling me against him hard, as we grinded ourselves against the other. We were both breathing heavi...y, and moaning...our hands wandering over each others bodies. I don't think I ever wanted anyone that much, before him. We both were so hungry for each other. The passion was so unrestrained from both of us. No games, no drama...just complete desire and lust for one another. His voice and slight accent were so erotic to my ears, as he moaned to. Madness? Perhaps. Powerful, certainly. But it’s no nameless force, no almighty independent power in itself. It is me. Part of me. All of me. By what right can you claim that a part of me that defines who I am is separate, an illness, a sore to be healed? I know what I feel. I know who I am. Can you say the same? Unlike you I can see where this ends. The waves I ride get higher, deeper and harder to survive. Recovery (your word) is longer each time. The further I go, the harder it is to come. More

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