But Amber was right, I was in love with Henry. I slipped into Henry's room and saw he was awake and watching tv. "I hoped I'd see you Tamara." he said..., his face beaming. This amazing young man, facing his own mortality still managed to smile. I walked over to his bed and lowered it. "Am I going somewhere?" he asked. I pressed my finger to his lips and slid into the bed with him. I still remember the touch of his hands on my skin, his gentle unsure kisses on the nape of my neck, the almost giddy. "No. Not yet." The sounds that are rising out of your hunger don't sound human to your own ears. You are breaking down now, and you move from rage to pure, grunting need. Your mouth is wide open and every muscle in your body is tensed, braced, begging you to let it move, make it come, make it stop, let you be anywhere but on this horrible edge on which you are precariously perched. I stop moving my hand altogether. My eyes are full on your face, watching it evidence whatever you’re feeling. Their bodies entangled into a mess of flesh, touching, tasting, and heavy breathing, each realizing what logically should come next, but both feeling a bit too scared to go that far so fast. Their bodies, however, were not running on fear, but on anim*listic desire. Freddie had never felt harder in his life, and Sam might as well have been soaking the sheets, she was so hot for more.Sam had never felt so empty than she did in this moment, with no tongue, no finger to fill her up, and while she. As the day went on I knew I was too emotional to deal with seeing him that night. What was causing all the anxiety was not even me having to face him or us having to talk about things, I could not get out of my head how crushed I would be if he just decided to not come over. That would be much worse than the rejection I had faced that morning. I left my car at the studio after work and walked down to a pub full of guys having some beers before that night’s game at the arena. Having fun, I.