The memories in her head had texture. A honey-drop flame releasing wax in rivulets of smoothly chaotic trails, unique and vivid.
She fed them to her starved mind. Restraints, clamps, the tease of a razor-sharp edge. Recollections of orgasms she’d only ever experienced in the hands of such a skilled lover. A world of balance where pain she never thought could be erotic was seared into subconscious folds by the follow of pleasurable suckles.
Perhaps it wasn’t fair to him or to the family they’d built. But as he serviced her cunt, she’d only feel those times spent with her.
