Out and Down

When I come around, 20 minutes have passed. The first thing that returns is the dull ache in my pussy. There is nothing good about it, it is just throbbing, and nagging, and grinding. She feels as if she has been bitten off by a grizzly bear, thoroughly chewed, spit out, and sewn back on again. There’s nothing I can squeeze from her from here, that’s for sure. I really have to step away from all this, I need to think about something else. But that’s not easy to do, when you are locked in a room full of sex toys and big screens full of porn people having sex, and everything else carefully edited out; there’s simply nothing else to do. I try closing my eyes, and think different things. I need to hoover my apartment. For hoovering the floor, you need to bend over. Bending over allows your holes to be penetrated more easily. Damn, that didn’t work. Another one? Lets see… let’s imagine going shopping on a saturday afternoon. The fashion stores are full of shoes and clothes that I would love to have. Shoes and clothes make me look pretty. When I’m pretty, men turn their heads. Those men want to bend me over and fuck me.

It is hopeless. No matter what I try, every train of thought boomerangs back to sex within seconds. It doesn’t matter that I am utterly exhausted, that I’m aching, or that the sheer thought of sex makes me nauseous. It doesn’t matter that the sheer size of my challenge hangs like a giant mass above my head, and that I have no idea how I could ever comply with it. I’m going to die, there’s nothing I can do about it.