She was good. She felt good. Nobody ever felt quite like this before. She was lithe; she knew how to move against me just right. Perfect skin. She said she had stretch marks – didn't want to explain them, and I didn't ask. I didn’t notice 'em, so it wasn't a big deal to me. Not my business. I had stretch marks too - but she didn't mention it. I had other things to, you know, attend to - and damn were they nice things, so I wasn't really one to be concerned.

The shirts came off first. Some girls like to go for pants, first, but she'd made it pretty clear a long time ago what she was after, and I couldn't complain. She had a great waist - saw her in a crop top, once, is how I know; felt a bit jealous then, but I'm better now. Then our bras - unhooked at the same time, I think; she might have just waited a moment longer for me, though. Not my business. Worked out nice, alright; felt good. Nobody ever felt quite like this before.

She had nice lips. I felt her tongue. She was awfully fond of having my top off, and we spent a long time like that. I got pretty worked up. I was a bit open about it, too - (gasps) God, please just - (stops) but anyway. She touched my back a lot. Felt right at the time; like a back massage while you're rubbing up against a beautiful girl - I mean, the claws hadn't come out yet - you know the type; they make you bleed, I swear - but I probably wouldn't have minded. Pretty worked up, you know?

Next came the socks. She was a gymnast, she said - and she proved it pretty easily, I thought. God damn, could that girl move in all the right ways. She took them off what must've been half an hour, an hour - I mean, I don't think the sun was up by that point. It must have been ages between the talking and ... that. I wanted to know her secrets. She took off my socks for me - did that playful thing with the toes I like. She was a fucking tease. I loved it.

She said I looked nice. I said she looked better. She said she could make me feel better. I said something that I can't remember now because, you know, she was climbing on top of me and damn she felt good, you know? I'm excused about being just a little distracted. Nobody ever felt quite like this before. Like, they normally just kinda bounce, but on her - well, yeah, anyway. We kissed. Her lips on mine - her hands on my shoulders, and on my back, and on my sides. I didn't think about it.

We slowly worked across the couch, and my back was against the couch armrest, and her lips were on my neck and I'm pretty sure I couldn't see. It's like getting in a wreck, because you can only see stars, except it feels like you're going to die of pleasure because God's nine fucks it feels so good to have your neck touched just like that. I felt her hand on my back. Nobody ever felt quite like this before. She made me feel so different.

She put her hands on my chest. She liked that. She put her hands on my back, too. I felt like my entire body was being massaged by her entire body. I didn't realise how that worked, at the time, because, you know - neck. It's hard to think about it now, because it felt so good, but it felt so wrong, right then. Nobody ever felt quite like this before. She was touching me so much. I couldn't see.

I felt my insides churning - not that hot sort of feeling, when it's just right, but that feeling when something is wrong. And it didn't feel like quite the same feeling as it did before. I felt like I was moving inside. I felt like I was being moved inside. I couldn't see. I was moving - it was responsive, I think. I could feel her touching my spine.

I could feel her moving my spine.

I didn't cry then. I'm not a fighter - if you ever gave me fight or flight, I'd choose flight - but not this time. I was cornered, I couldn't see, and she was all around me. I didn't know what she was doing. I didn't know what she was. She had her hands inside of me - all of her hands, and I felt them. My bones shifted. I became longer. She turned my spine around - I could feel I was facing behind me, and I was being bent even more.

She gave me more skin. Stretch marks. I felt how I was being stretched, I was being screwed around. I'd joke about the verb, but it's not the time. My waist was thin after having been through a few diets, but my waist must have been thinner than any human I'd ever seen. I was being spun around, and my bones were all put end on end to make room for the skin she made me grow.

I'm stuck here, and can't stop thinking about her.

I'm all twisted up.

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