The month isn’t the challenge. I am. Every movement, every word. Every slow, deliberate tease is a test you were never meant to pass. You’ll ache through the days, burn through the nights. Counting times in pumps instead of hours. November is about surrender. It even rhymes, it’s more than a perfect match. And by the time it’s over, you won’t remember what freedom felt like… The only thing you’ll know is the exquisite ache of being kept on the edge.
