>> far different than the painful pleas of fright... When he curled fingers, or hit spots... I'd fucking see fireworks. I'd explode, >>>
>> I'd hurt him and we'd repeat the pain because we were eachothers it. This was us... All rolled into a sweaty car rocking madness of >>>
>> and he wasn't my fucking prince charming. We didn't ride white stallions into the setting sun, we were this. Mess of us. He'd hurt me, >>