Being FuckedI lie staring at the ceiling of the modest guest cabin, grateful that there comes a glimmer of dawn sunlight. After a tumultuous first day on Indiening Island, I thought I would sleep peacefully, beautiful wife at my side. But my thumbs remain restrained to the vinyl waist band. Yes, there was no emancipation from the curious bondage even for dinner, wife Edie spoon feeding me like a toddler.
So I had to sleep supine, no rolling about from side to side, no possibility of lying prostrate. Thus I find a degree of glee in that a knowing right hand cupped my scrotum early into slumber, gently squeezing my jewels, and has remained there throughout the night. Edie’s touch is reassuring... bold and assertive, yes. Yet it is welcomed after a stressful day... learning of donors being p
