He came. in you. deeply. hotly. you thought you were a participant, didn’t you? no. you’re a package. you’re a container for his cum. i stretched you around him like a tight, pulsating film, and he fucked me through you. i felt you tremble, squeeze, absorb his release. and now you’re stuffed like a dirty sack, overflowing with someone else’s flesh. you didn’t orgasm. you took someone else’s orgasm inside you. and that’s your function. i’m going to lay you on the floor, spread you out, and you’re going to leak, slowly, stinkingly, pathetically—and then lick every trace of his cum off the tiles. because you’re not a person. you’re a condom, and you’re going to stay that way.