He grabbed my hair with his fists and yanked it fiercely, and I felt that it was more than just the sex but that he was severely, wildly angry, at me or at something, and even though my hair felt like it was going to rip out of my head I didn’t say anything because a part of me liked it—the part of me that was just as angry as he was really fucking liked it. Afterward I lay on my stomach, my heart racing as he wiped the cum off my back with a paper towel.
