Ryland stares vacantly at the phone and sees himself three nights ago, naked on the plastic sheet on Tisha's floor. The handset's numbers waver before his eyes:
Tisha's whip: the first whiplash always hurts.
"Your punishment, Daniel," Tisha hisses; Crack!
She, grunting with effort. He, moaning: Yes God- punish me- absolve- me of- my weaknesses.
Ryland moansobs: ecstatic, blissful, tearlashed pain.
Faster. Harder. Bite!
Almost... there, whipcrack, whole body vibrating in stingling nirvana "I'm bad!" he shouts, coming.
Tisha destroys his reverie. "Telephone?"
Lisa Williams almost 3 years ago
OK. Now I'm not going to be able to even blink until the next part.
Loving the jumping between apartments/characters/thoughts breaks the story up but tells it well. (Just reread that- no idea if that makes sense- soz rather tired) X