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feels huge and open, desperately reaching out toward his for connection.
    His leg slips between mine, and I feel his little cock grinding against my thigh through his boxers, all hard and swollen. My whole body shudders at the feel of it, and I wonder if he can feel my clit, too. It’s not as big as his, but I have been using a clit pump to try to make it bigger and more sensitive. He bites my neck and growls as I run my hands down his back and up under his shirt. He rolls on top of me and for the first time we look at each other, our hips still moving. I pull his shirt up and touch his now-unfamiliar chest with my hand. His new scars are fresh, pink, and raised. He had surgery right after we broke up. I thought I would never get to feel this body.
    To my surprise, my eyes are welling up. He smiles. I feel exposed, sentimental, and start thrusting my hips harder at him to show him it’s a serious ride. I reach my hands up around his back and scrape my short-but-sharp nails over his skin. He winces.
    â€œYou like that?” He nods.
    I slap his face. He smiles.
    I flip him over on his back, lay next to him, and slide my hand into his boxers, rubbing my hand in his wetness to lube up my fingers, sliding back over his cock, giving him a nice wet hand job. He groans and his ass tightens, lifting his hips up off the bed. “Fuck me?” He stares into my eyes with that pained look he gets when he’s desperate to come.
    Smiling, I slide two fingers up inside him, rubbing his g-spot while circling his cock-head with my thumb. He groans and moves his body in time with my hand. He grabs the hair on the back of my head and pulls, whimpering and pleading for me to make him come. “Please, oh fuck, you’re gonna make it happen, it’s coming.”
    I fuck him with the muscle of my whole arm and synch up the flow so that his body can bounce along with me, both of us released into the laws of physics. “I wanna see you come, I wanna watch your face,” I say in a low voice that echoes through my body, the vibration sending nice little shock waves to the head of my clit. He puts his hand between my legs. It’s turned the wrong way, and he can’t pay attention to what he’s doing anyway, but he moves it around, and I hump my body against him so he rubs me just right as I push another finger up inside him.
    My orgasm builds as I watch him fall into his. His groans get louder and longer and his face contorts into a pained, then overwhelmed expression before it dissolves into surrender and his whole body bucks up, heaving and shaking, his cunt spasming around my three fingers. My whole body feels hot and fuzzy, like the borders of it have faded, and colours flood my mind, red and purple, and then a bright orange light exploding through me, emanating from my clit, up into my pelvis, my gut, my heart.
    Burning its way through the hard, stuck places, chasing out the fear.
    I hold him tight, sweating against his skin, shudders passing through me, through us. I am overwhelmed. I’m glad I can’t cry, because I don’t want him to see me like that, I don’t want him to feel too needed, or think I’m putting too much on this. I know we aren’t in love, that it didn’t work. But I’ve never had this feeling with anyone else. It’s been hard to give up.
    â€œDid you notice anything different?”
    We’re sitting on the couch again in the living room. We just ate delicious sandwiches with steamed beets, sauerkraut, and goat cheese. I never would have thought to put those foods together, but he found them and made something amazing out of it. Our tongues are bright pink from the beets, and we’re huddled by the radiator trying to keep warm.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” He looks at me, his eyes guarded, trying to discern my agenda before it’s dumped on him.
    â€œI mean, about my body.” I wonder what he will think.
    He chuckles. “Uh, I