He does not let me leave the bed for the first hour.

After the morning session he simply turns me onto my side, lifts my top leg, and starts again with slow, deep strokes that never quite let me catch my breath. The room is bright with daylight. Every time I try to speak he covers my mouth with his hand and keeps moving until the words turn into broken sounds against his palm. When the first climax of the morning hits I shake hard, nails digging into his forearm. He works me through it and straight into the next build without ever pulling back.

Only after the second one...