He leaves the room only to return a minute later with a first-aid kit. That he has such a thing at all strikes me so bizarre that I can’t repress a ...augh.I receive a glare. “You really need stitches.”He treats me. It stings terribly, but it’s what I deserve. Or so he keeps telling me.I lay out to rest and he vanishes. The pain is exquisite and I don’t quite sleep, drifting in and out.In the middle of the night he creeps in, obviously assuming I’m asleep. His cool hand touches my forehead. If. ’ You nod. Your ‘Yes!’ is barely audible. ‘You sometimes wet your finger in your vagina then gently caress your hidden secret don’t you.’ Your heavier breathing tells him all he needs to know. ‘And sometimes do you explore a little deeper inside?’ ‘Oh God!’ escapes from your lips. How does he know?! The woman opposite looks up again but this time a little longer and you struggle to sit still while her eyes are on you. ‘Each time my hands pass over your globes my thumb presses a little harder. More

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