The abandon was terrifying, and I craved it with every last hair and cell. It was reckless and raucous and somehow sophisticated and real. Desire awakened desire, and the two fed like predators. She knew what she wanted. At times I could think of nothing but the scent of her skin. Nothing else mattered.
Sometimes, I have difficulty believing it happened. Sometimes I simply cannot accept that I responded as I did. Then I remember that she felt the same things for me. It was an inspired madness. It was unsafe and unknown. It was volatile. Dangerous. It woke every aspect of myself that I had denied existed and have since denied existed.
It ended, and I wonder sometimes how much of me ended with it.