The light from the stereofights the darkness.Music?Anything will do.It isn't meant to entertain,merely to muffle my criesfrom the neighborwith her ear to the wall.The thought of your handsis maddening.I crave thembeyond all reason.The feel of them on my breasts,kneading, pulling, twisting,pinching as pain and pleasurebecome indistinct.Your hands,demanding access,prying open my knees,pinning my arms to the mattressas you t...