I push the moaning girl against the lightweight door and thrust my fingers into her. Her moans intensify, they’re deeper and louder and now her gasping mouth is next to my ear. Her hot pants bring moisture to the shell of the cartilage. I drive my fingers deeper into her with more vigour. She screams a little. I like it when they scream.

Since moving to New York from Los Angeles I’ve changed and grown as a person. The main reason for my move was university; NYU was calling my name so I came running. There was of course added bonuses to moving, getting away from my awful mother was one, she didn’t want me around anymore anyway, and as for my dad, well he was M.I.A. most of the time.

The girl continues to scream, have I mentioned how I love to make them scream? There is something so deeply erotic about a girl screaming in ecstasy; it’s such a turn on. Her hips are pushing forward to meet my hand, she’s trying to maximise her pleasure. A sardonic laugh is lost in my throat as I bring my left hand down from her chest – where it has been busying itself with her breasts – to her thrusting hips, I push my palm down onto the bone as forcefully as I can. Doesn’t she realise that I’m the one who’s in control here?

I hardly miss my old school – King High graduation didn’t see any of my tears. There were only two people at that school I cared about, Aiden and Her. As for Aiden, he was going to NYU like me so I had no reason to even say goodbye to him. But, as for Her, I couldn’t cry over her, not anymore. It took everything I had not to ask Aiden where she was headed and what she had planned for after graduation. I couldn’t beat myself up about Her any more, she broke my heart and that was that.

I add a third finger and she starts to whimper – you know that whimpering sound, it’s sort of a cross between a cry of pain and someone begging for more – she was begging for more, she was begging for release. I wasn’t going to give her a release though. I didn’t want to. And I’m the one in control. Not her, me. That’s not to say that I’m going to stop, push her away and leave – no, I’m going to make her cum, I just want to see her beg, to hear her beg, I want her to plead for release. I press down on her clit and her thigh twitches. She’s close, so I slow down, my fingers moving painfully slowly.