“Sorry, Miss Taylor! Gotta whizz!” The door to the room sighed and latched shut. I heard the lid slam against the toilet and the sound of pee jett...ng into the bowl. I actually stuck my head into the room to watch, I have no idea why, although I sometimes wondered what it would be like to hold a penis while peeing. Do you feel the flow? Do you concentrate on aiming? Do you think about masturbating? Back then, thoughts of masturbation absorbed way too much of my mental resources. I should perhaps. She kept swallowing over and over, and it felt like her silent sorrow sucked the light and warmth out of the room. I kept still, almost not daring to breathe as she fought her silent fight against the feelings I knew she’d have to let out at some point, at the same time knowing I wasn’t going to suggest that she process them right now. There would be plenty of time after the four weeks she had forced me to agree on, to go through what she’d told me and to help her come to terms with her. More

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