~ erotica ~
His head rests on my chest. His breathing, slowed by sleep, is my lullaby. Our naked bodies, salty and slick, don’t want to decouple.
He leaves in the morning. This truth keeps my lids from remaining shut, keeps my mind from quieting. I don’t know when I’ll see him again.
He has a key. I pray it is the one thing he never loses.
This time he gave me a few days warning. I bought the beer he likes and threw the extra ice packs in the freezer. Fluffed the pillows on the couch, and checked my supply of condoms.
He didn’t even bother with his usual routine. Just took my face in his hands, encircled his arms around my waist, and stumbled me into the bedroom.
His head was between my legs before any clothing was removed. I screamed his name and said ‘I’ve missed you’ as I came that first time.
He was rough, impatient. His pants were barely down the first time he entered me. The denim grated against my thighs. But him inside me was more than enough to push anyway any discomforts.
Once he collapsed after his first release, I pulled his clothes off. Folded them up neatly. Undressed myself.
Then I stroked his hair and kissed his face. I saw the strain melt some.
He grabbed my hips. Squeezed. Guided me on top of him. I rode slow. He matched my hips with his own. I reclined my head, my chest, and breathed in full.
He sat up. His lips found my nipples. I gasped. Then my hands found his hair and hugged his head to me.
Seated became lying on my back, became his deep strokes into me.
Kisses that lasted many breaths. Tongues that missed each other.
Moans. Groans. Sighs. Fucks. Oh shit. Fuck yes. Oh god. Oh fuck. Harder. Closer. More. More. Deeper. Faster. God yes. God yes.
“What do you need?”
“Just you. Only ever you.”
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