The OB/GYN appointment, six days later, showed everything negative. (Of course, need to repeat the HIV test six months from now, for the sake of good order.) The pregnancy test had to wait, but with the contraceptive sponges I shoved ceaselessly into me, it will be most likely worry-free, as well.

The schoolgirl uniform is packed, along with the stockings, toys, condoms, paddle, into the hope chest bag, now dormant again.

All I have, except your silence, is the memory of my ankles, hooked into your thighs, as you leaned over, staring at my sticky, busy hands as you pulled your tender flesh into spurting. All I have is the first and only kiss you allowed on your cock, and lips, and how I wanted more.

All I have is what I felt when you roughly fondled me, savoring my wounded ass with bare hands and slick rubber gloves, after your corrections brought us close to cumming.

All I have is your caress when I shook, after breaking me with the blows, my stained panties over my face, forcing me to remember the count and forget everything else, until I was just your ass to use, your vagina, your girl.

All I know is your voice still gives me a shock on my spine, from my waist to my ass, even when I hear my old voicemail messages, even when I remember it. You spoke on the phone, then from the open hotel door, daring me to take the chance of leaving it ajar after pulling my panties down, to masturbate for you.

What you said when you found me on the bed, it is no longer proper to say; I cannot say it, in any case, without throbbing, and missing caresses left unshared.

I am back to my rational self, the one that does not expect to be touched except by a doctor or enthusiastic churchgoer. I am back to leaving my face and hair plain, my red lipgloss left to its dessicating fate.

I miss. I miss the constant rain in the midst of drought, the boring hotel, the facilities I did not use, the cable porn I refused to see, wanting to make some of our own, and I miss you, even though I was not supposed to. It was only one day in time, three hours, together.

And, yet, I miss you. Wish I could spank myself, for that.