It drips onto my breast, and a rivulet of water runs down from my dampened nipple to my belly. I feel its precise path tracing across my skin. It’s ... loss when your touch ceases. I hear you walking to the back of the room. I need you to be there. We’d long talked of you taking a whip to my naked flesh. I’d become obsessed. I’d devoured de Sade, Sacher-Mashoch, the Story of O. We’d discussed it often, when dressed in the lives we showed to outsiders: the Starbucks-domestic world which for want. So I went to her house one day as she had called for me to go to the bank.I reached and she said her husband’s bike is just sitting idle in the house. It may get out-of-order if not used. Her son lived in a different city and was pursuing his engineering. He rarely used the bike. So I agreed and we went to the bank on their bike.After some minutes of the ride, she said this is the first time she is sitting on this bike. Even though it was 5 years since her husband had bought this bike. There. More

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