I lay in the dark of Devon’s bedroom, feeling him wrapped around me from behind, his arm draped over me, pulling me tight. We hadn’t talked much after my earlier confessional. We’d shared a light dinner and gone up to bed together where he’d made love to me softly and slowly. The only kink involved was when he’d held my hands down above my head as he’d thrust into me. He was gentle, but paradoxically, I felt like I would fly apart.
His attention, his affection…I craved it yet felt unnerved by it all at once. The craving reminded me of when I was very young, probably early elementary school, when my mother first started leaving Justin and I alone for longer and longer periods of time. We were hungry and, while we had each other, I ached for her return. For that moment when she came back an
