Touch—When I press my back against the door, I can feel the soreness of the bruises on my back. Which makes me feel…aroused. I focus on the light touch of my nails as I gently scrape them over my knee and up my thigh, into the wetness of the cum that is still leaking out of me. His cum and mine.

Distracted from the rest of the exercise, my fingers move through the slippery mess between my thighs. Bringing my hand to my lips, I taste the salty tang of my mysterious stranger before parting my legs and pushing my fingers behind my ruined panties. Pushing his cum back inside me, I press two fingers in and out before rubbing my sopping fingers over my swollen clit.

I didn’t even take the time to fix my clothes before I made a run for it. It’s a good thing no one was in the hallway, considering my tits are still out. I tug on the barbells and run my fingertips over the wound on my chest. The sting of pain makes me moan, and my fingers move faster against my clit.

My eyes close, holding onto the image of the way his unnaturally green eyes flashed as his cock drove into me. The way he held me up like I weighed nothing. The way he didn’t die after making me come so hard the lights flickered.

My climax washes over me like waves at the beach, slow and relaxing. The relief it brings is like a breath of fresh air after being underwater too long. Healthy or not, it always brings me clarity. Maybe it’s just my nature; part of who, or rather what, I am.

Every orgasm is a good orgasm, but this is nothing compared to what he made me feel. That was like an atom bomb compared to fireworks. I’ll never be the same.

I’ve always been better at bringing myself to climax than any partner I’ve ever had. Then again, I haven’t had many partners that weren’t unapologetic assholes or criminals of the worst sort. It’s generally hard to get off when you know the person you’re fucking is about to die a gruesome death. And I’ve certainly never had one live past his own ejaculation.

After the first time I lost control and gave in to my urges, I screamed for an hour. I had come across a group of teenagers my age and was invited to a beach party. It was probably my first experience with other people my age, and certainly my first experience with fun. I danced around the bonfire while sipping on a hard cider that packed more punch than I was expecting.