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I found her so sexy that oral was as far as I could go.
“Let’s go to bed,” she’d say, and I’d come.
Even a “mmm” while eating dinner and I needed a change of trousers.
It had never been like this with other girls, so I guessed this must be real love.
It meant we couldn’t really talk in the day, and certainly not at work, but it also made the evenings more special.
She’d blindfold and gag me, get me drunk and put plugs in my ears, but I’d still explode as soon as she put her hands against me.
I’d always say sorry, and she said she didn’t mind, but she wanted us to work on a way for me to get her off too. So I started reading dirty books to her, and that seemed to work, as long as she kept her mouth shut so I could carry on.
Once I’d got the hang of things I started to ad lib too, and after a while I didn’t need the books at all. We started going to our separate beds with smiles on our faces, and a week later we decided to get married.
We went out celebrating that weekend. She was wearing her shortest skirt, and I was trying my best not to look at her. On the bus home that night a guy grabbed her by the hair and called her a dirty bitch. He held a knife to her throat as he told her all the things he wanted to do to her. She started moaning, then she screamed, and then the guy got up and ran.
I haven’t been able to make her come since, and she doesn’t talk much, but we’ve carried on living together. We’ve reached a point where we can hold hands if one of us is wearing a glove, and that makes her happy. She keeps writing me notes asking if we can hug. I tell her we’ll be able to do it one day.