andlt;bandgt;CHAPTER 1andlt;/bandgt;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Iand#8217;m on my bed, under the covers, and my boyfriend is kissing my neck. He lifts my shirt, lowers his face. My heart is beating, beating, beating. I want him to do more, go further. I donand#8217;t tell himand#8212;I donand#8217;t say anything at alland#8212;but he figures it out and slides his hand way down. My whole body is on fire in the best possible way. Especially there. Right andlt;iandgt;thereandlt;/iandgt;. I tug on his boxers and he sighs.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;I start awake.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;A hint of cologne. Soft breathing. Darkness. Itand#8217;s real. This is all happening. But not with the imaginary boyfriend from my dream.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;My hands, my arms, my frame go limp. His fingers keep doing what theyand#8217;re doing. Soon this will be over. I keep my eyes shut and hold my breath while the wave builds and builds and builds and builds and andlt;iandgt;thenandlt;/iandgt;and#8212;the wonderful, terrible crash.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;It doesnand#8217;t matter that I tried not to tense up; he knows. Somehow, heand#8217;s always been able to tell. Gently, he kisses my cheek. Then he stands, straightens my blankets, and closes the door behind him.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;I press my pillow onto my face and wish that it were possible to suffocate myself.