He kept rocking those hips, this time dropping his hands to wrap them around my throat. His grip was light, but slowly he applied pressure. In that moment, I thought maybe there was something wrong with me. Maybe I was a crazy masochist who loved pain. Maybe something in me was broken, for relishing the frisson of fear combined with overwhelming pleasure. When he did that, wrapped his large hands around my throat and took my life in his hands, I was struck dumb with lust. The loss of control drove my body wild.
