Breakfast dishes on a coffee table. The room snatched me from my seventh heaven. I plummeted back to the mundane, landed with a jolt.But Clare was the...angel imprisoned here, and I was frantic to undress her. My need for her became passion unhindered, carnality as white-knuckle.April, the air still chilly. She had turned on the fire, but it had not yet warmed the room. In my mind I still see her standing half undressed beside the leather sofa. Her top and skirt were gone, and I eyed her bare. Don’t think about how long it’s been going on or how long it might last. Don’t think at all unless you can make yourself think of something pleasant. There may be women who can do that, escape in their minds. I’m not one of them. I’m pretty much stuck in the moment. I can’t go to some imaginary ‘happy place.’ But I’m getting better at letting time slip by unnoticed.My job while men are using me this way is simple enough, to remain in place and let them rape me violently. That’s all I have to. More

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