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Summary
As the elevator began its ascension it wasn’t just a shiver that rattled through Mark's body.
His stomach would clench, muscles tensing as if on the brink of orgasm as the elevator doors opened a second later. Mark hadn’t truly touched himself since Gemma’s passing – not for lack of trying, of course, but because every time he did try, her face would pass by his eyelids and her fingernails would scratch against his back, a ghost returning to torture him with imaginary bliss. Mark supposed that he was getting so pent up that his innie was feeling it too, but, why was his innie leaving work about to burst instead of taking care of it beforehand? It felt torturous, like some kind of message.
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OR: what if YOU were so lonely you started having an affair with yourself? well, talk to mark!