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Yours, Part II: The Interrogation
After the fall, she makes him confess every detail — and he learns his voice belongs to her
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The climax tears through me, a guttural roar claws its way out of my throat, a sound torn from some deep, primal place I didn’t know existed. My body arches, a taut, quivering bowstring, and then shatters. The release is a blinding, white-hot nova, a violent erasure of thought, of control, of everything but this one, singular, cataclysmic sensation. My vision goes white. The world dissolves.
The aftershocks are brutal. My body convulses, a series of shuddering, uncontrolled spasms that leave me boneless and gasping. I slump forward in the chair, my head hanging, my forehead slick with a cold sweat. The scent of sex — musky, metallic, and sharp — fills the air, thick and suffocating. It clings to my clothes, to my skin, to the very air I’m struggling to breathe.
