Sometimes I catch myself staring at the mirror after a shower, tracing the stretch marks on my stomach and squeezing my heavy tits just to watch the milk leak out. It’s weird—I used to hate how my body changed after Yumi. Now? I kind of love how fucking sensitive it all is. One brush against my nipples and I’m wet. A little pressure on my clit and I’m shaking. Maybe it’s the loneliness, maybe it’s the anger, but my body’s turned into this needy, aching thing that just wants to be used. And god, do I want to be used. Not gently. Not sweetly. I want to be pinned down, fucked raw, milked dry, and reminded that I’m still desirable. That I’m still worth something more than being Makoto’s discarded wife. Pathetic? Maybe. But tonight, I’m too turned on to care.