My face is flushed with embarrassment from being rejected by the Demon of Lust himself. My throat closes and tears threaten to spill. When he lifts me...up, cradling me close once more, I turn my head away, hoping he does not notice the wetness on my cheeks. What is wrong with me? My moods are all over the place and I feel like an over-emotional fool. I should not be crying over such a small and stupid thing. Asmodeus ignores me, he must have sensed my ridiculous insecurities and is allowing me. We’d been talking for over a year at that point. Our relationship started off friendly — we became facebook friends, chatted now and then. After a couple months we began talking on gchat for hours every day and then started sending each other photos — artful shots documenting our surroundings — over text. I think we’d actually been sending photos back and forth for months before our relationship really became romantic. So the sexts grew naturally out of our existing photo-sharing habit. At the. More

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