And I know we’ve had sex before, but there is something that feels very different this time around. There is no alcohol, no ignorance over who the other is, no feigning that this is a one-night stand I will never see again. No. This time as I press her thighs forward so I can slide painstakingly slowly into her, I don’t notice her lips part or her chest hitch from her slow breaths. Instead, I watch the pleasure wash over her as her eyes roll partially back in rapture before returning to mine with emotions swimming in them I’m not sure I want to process.

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