There was no easy rhythm. He fucked her hard, banging her body with his. The top of the headboard hit the wall with each thrust and she released her g...ip on the rungs, her face falling into the pillow. The angle of his penetration changed, and she cried out again. He still didn’t stop. If anything, it seemed to fuel him. He plunged into her more deeply. The sound of the headboard knocking against the wall got louder. It felt like hot, wet steel was being slammed into her. She muffled her cries. By the time I reached eleven, I just sort of discovered it, with no information or input from my friends. And certainly not from Mom. Maybe it was something I had read about in some bodice ripper from Mom's shelf, maybe it was something some character said in one of those trash television programs, I don't remember. It was just that when I thought about sex, I got wet down there, and when I rubbed it for long enough, I got this tremendous feeling of relief. My body would shake and it felt as if. More

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