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“Are you active?” I asked, “Sort of” he replied, “I had a fumble with a teacher from college, he fucked me but wouldn’t let me fuck him”...As we talked he said he was scared to approach others as he didn’t know what to say and he didn’t have any experience so he wasn’t sure what to do. I thought about what he’d said as I made him a drink and as we sat on the sofa I leaned across to him and said “I can help you out” as I put my hand on his knee, he looked surprised as he said “You sure”, smiling. After 40 minutes, I turned off the TV, and asked Christie to get me a bottle of water from the kitchen. She went, happily bouncing. I moved to sit on the coffee table, then drank most of the bottle, just staring at Sidney’s ass, letting the tension in the room build and build. Also trying to figure out what I was going to do. Letting my anger build and rumble around inside me, filling the room. Truthfully, Sidney’s edge—her need for pain—was a bit further out there than my edge. And sometimes. More

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