Control

By Christopher Perry

“Sit and shut up,” she said.

I sat. She walked closer and stood over me, straddling my stiffened legs. I stopped breathing. Or, at least I don’t remember breathing. My chest felt tight.

“Off,” she said quietly, pointing at my jeans.

Again, I obeyed. I quickly slid them down to my knees but her legs prevented me from going further.

I reached out with both hands and touched her cold, smooth thighs.

She bent forward, put her mouth next to my ear, and whispered “Time’s up.”

I exhaled. Deflated.

She turned around to walk out, then stopped and looked back, “Unless…”