I breathe in loudly, almost a whimper. I remember - sometime (http://estdeus-innobis.livejournal.com/39325.html?thread=1103773#t1103773), my hands against the brick of a wall, his penis pushing into me as hard as this. That was easier, that was just my body. My thoughts are less willing to give way, especially that deep black god-place in me. But I shudder and shake around him and let him have the pain of it: offering it, like the gifts I sent him. There's a comfort in having him in the lonely places inside me.