And so I didn’t say that I loved him. I didn’t know how to love him, and so I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t pretend that I could love him the way he wa... supposed to be loved. I could only hold on tight, kiss his pain away, spread my legs for him to find comfort in my body, listen to him when he needed someone to talk to. I could be his friend, I could be his best friend, and I hoped, God how I hoped, that that’d be enough.Because even if I didn’t know how to love, I knew how to care. For now, that. You use your other hand on my belly to hold me down. “My way,” you scold. I relax my hips back down on the bed and groan into the gag. You increase the pressure on my lower body and it feels like you are trying to push my panties inside me. I shudder from the feel of the fabric being pulled tighter and then you abruptly stop. I whimper and twist my hips trying to find you. Your response to my tantrum is to rip my panties off. I hear you groan as the cotton fabric tears. I twitch and groan. More

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