It’s more of an experience for me that way. I like feeling dominated and knowing that there will be no “release” for me. All the ever growing sexual frustration inside me will amount to nothing. It seems as if my feelings don’t matter, I’m just the slut with the wet knees. It’s kind of the perfect storm of elements that add up to a moment that can make me feel again. I can smell the salt in my tears as they roll down my face. I can taste the shame and defeat brought about by my actions. I can hear the moans of pleasure that I’ll never get to make. Most importantly I feel used. I’m an unloved toy in some ones dirty game of life. That just gets me so hot and bothered, its even further amplified by knowing I’ll never get to empty all this tension and mixed feelings. All I can do is wipe my face clean and take a drag off my cigarette once its all over knowing I have gained nothing and I have to keep everything inside me.