kisses between each finger. Goose bumps trail fervent lips as they travel up my arm and across the front of my shoulder. He continues across my collarbone to the hollow of my neck. Continuing down my sternum to my stomach. My breath hitches. He circles my navel with his tongue. The warm, wet sensation adds to the heat that continues to take over my body. I moan.
He abandons my middle and jumps to the inside of my thigh. Little nibbles outline the inner curve. I groan and arch my back. My pulse quickens. Every appendage in my body is pulsing. He moves to the other thigh.
His tongue snakes up to the region between my thighs. It caresses the one place that is throbbing for his attention. My insides burn like a volcano. He flicks and sucks as the intensity builds. I claw the cushions. I can’t control it any longer.
Multiple waves send me into frenzy. A long groan tells him what I’m feeling. He doesn’t stop until I erupt. But I’m not done. I need him inside me – now! I grab his arms and pull him on top of me. I place him where I need him to be. He’s more than happy to oblige. His hips make fast work of bringing me back to my crest. My hands pull on his shoulders. He slams into me twice and I come undone. I clench around him and it fuels him. His hips swivel and it’s more intense. I build again, this time faster. I grip his shoulders and come again. With one last thrust, he stills and silently releases.
I need another shower when we’re done. As the water cascades down my back I think about how fast everything is moving. This isn’t right. Should we even be in a relationship? Is this a relationship? It’s really only been sex. What if this is all over in a week? I think about how Dylan said he missed me. So what? This is fantastic. And we haven’t had sex in… forever. And, he’s soooooo good at it.
In only a towel, I rummage through his drawers. I pick one of his tee shirts and walk down to the kitchen.
“I love how you fill out my shirts.” He plants a small, chaste kiss on my lips.
“And I love how you fill me,” I say, looking away to hide my blush.
A big grin stretches across his face. “I made pasta for dinner. Is that okay?”
“I don’t care what you mak e for dinner. I’d like to skip right to the dessert.”
His perfect smile appears. He holds out a chair as I si t at the table. Then he arranges two plates of pasta and serves me.
If I don’t keep the conversation civil, I won’t get to the pasta until it’s cold. “So what did you do today while I was at work?” I ask.
“ You mean trying not to think of you?” I feel my cheeks warm at his comment and look away. “I put more stuff away and I painted the bedroom. Tomorrow, I’ll move on to the two smaller rooms upstairs. I’m hoping to get the living room finished on Friday. Eventually, I’m going to retile the bathrooms but they can stay the way they are for now, as long as they’re clean. I have to go back to work on Monday, so I’d like to get as much as I can done before then.”
“ I can help on Sunday,” I offer. “I work four on, three off.”
“I don’t want to take you away from anything.”
He’s joking right? “Up until you moved in a few days ago, my idea of a good time was laundry in the morning, mopping the kitchen floor before a walk to the pizza place mid-day, and flipping through television channels by eight o’clock at night. Besides, I want to help. Then I can be near you.” I lean over the table and place a small kiss on his nose.
“Thanks. That would be great . I want to be near you, too.”
During our meal, we talk more about plans for his house. A fterward, I wash the dishes and he dries. The sun begins its decent into the horizon.
Exhausted from a full day of work, and a half-day of intense play, Dylan and I cuddle on the couch in front of the television set for a few hours. It feels so nice, so relaxed; something I hadn’t been in quite some time. I think about how different
He abandons my middle and jumps to the inside of my thigh. Little nibbles outline the inner curve. I groan and arch my back. My pulse quickens. Every appendage in my body is pulsing. He moves to the other thigh.
His tongue snakes up to the region between my thighs. It caresses the one place that is throbbing for his attention. My insides burn like a volcano. He flicks and sucks as the intensity builds. I claw the cushions. I can’t control it any longer.
Multiple waves send me into frenzy. A long groan tells him what I’m feeling. He doesn’t stop until I erupt. But I’m not done. I need him inside me – now! I grab his arms and pull him on top of me. I place him where I need him to be. He’s more than happy to oblige. His hips make fast work of bringing me back to my crest. My hands pull on his shoulders. He slams into me twice and I come undone. I clench around him and it fuels him. His hips swivel and it’s more intense. I build again, this time faster. I grip his shoulders and come again. With one last thrust, he stills and silently releases.
I need another shower when we’re done. As the water cascades down my back I think about how fast everything is moving. This isn’t right. Should we even be in a relationship? Is this a relationship? It’s really only been sex. What if this is all over in a week? I think about how Dylan said he missed me. So what? This is fantastic. And we haven’t had sex in… forever. And, he’s soooooo good at it.
In only a towel, I rummage through his drawers. I pick one of his tee shirts and walk down to the kitchen.
“I love how you fill out my shirts.” He plants a small, chaste kiss on my lips.
“And I love how you fill me,” I say, looking away to hide my blush.
A big grin stretches across his face. “I made pasta for dinner. Is that okay?”
“I don’t care what you mak e for dinner. I’d like to skip right to the dessert.”
His perfect smile appears. He holds out a chair as I si t at the table. Then he arranges two plates of pasta and serves me.
If I don’t keep the conversation civil, I won’t get to the pasta until it’s cold. “So what did you do today while I was at work?” I ask.
“ You mean trying not to think of you?” I feel my cheeks warm at his comment and look away. “I put more stuff away and I painted the bedroom. Tomorrow, I’ll move on to the two smaller rooms upstairs. I’m hoping to get the living room finished on Friday. Eventually, I’m going to retile the bathrooms but they can stay the way they are for now, as long as they’re clean. I have to go back to work on Monday, so I’d like to get as much as I can done before then.”
“ I can help on Sunday,” I offer. “I work four on, three off.”
“I don’t want to take you away from anything.”
He’s joking right? “Up until you moved in a few days ago, my idea of a good time was laundry in the morning, mopping the kitchen floor before a walk to the pizza place mid-day, and flipping through television channels by eight o’clock at night. Besides, I want to help. Then I can be near you.” I lean over the table and place a small kiss on his nose.
“Thanks. That would be great . I want to be near you, too.”
During our meal, we talk more about plans for his house. A fterward, I wash the dishes and he dries. The sun begins its decent into the horizon.
Exhausted from a full day of work, and a half-day of intense play, Dylan and I cuddle on the couch in front of the television set for a few hours. It feels so nice, so relaxed; something I hadn’t been in quite some time. I think about how different
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