I looked down at my hard dick as if it disgusted me. I shouldn't be hard at the thought of her, but goddamn it, how could I not? 

I want her. I know that like I know the color of the sky, but I couldn't have her. And getting hard at the thought of her was wrong to me. So I was disgusted at myself because I usually had more control than this. 

I had sex. I wasn't some saint who doesn't fuck. I did. I fucked like a damn animal. Sex was like some relief for me. But I only had sex when ...