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just mouth, or lips. It's like it's all of me, and the atmosphere
I'm breathing is entirely the smell of him. Hair brushing
against my lips. He's got my head in his hand, he wants to move it himself, and my mouth is soft, liquid, and I can feel,
I can hear, his little moans and trembles. He's dropped his
hand now, he's disappeared, I don't even know where he is
anymore, it's all his cock now, and my sucking, and swallowing, inhaling him, he shudders and cries out and comes and
comes and comes.

JONATHAN
    Ah yes, well. The end of a good day, I thought to myself.
She was here beside me, the storytelling had been fun-and
useful, it had gotten us talking, comfortable. Oh, and massively turned on, too, and very well taken care of, thank you.
I felt terrific, as if I could sleep forever. I hadn't been sleeping
well for the last few weeks.
    I turned to her, wanting to gather her to me, before
I turned off the light. She was lying on her side, her head
propped on her elbow, eyes still bright and impatient.
    "You're not tired?" I asked.
    She shook her head. "Overtired. Wired. Like a kid OD'd
on sugar."
    And she expected me to do something about that, I realized. Well, good thing I'll be disciplining her again soon, I
thought. And I thought of how much I'd enjoy it, knowing
what a greedy little self she'd be hiding behind the bowed
head, the body meekly offered for punishment.

CARRIE
    I'll pay for this later, I thought. He's keeping accounts and
I am deeply in the red. He put a finger up my cunt, gently
touching my clit, lightly, lightly. Just letting it all build up
in me, all the tension and excitement, and when I started
coming, I could see his mouth curve, as he watched me
writhe at the end of his finger. And even after I finished
coming, and was ready to sleep, he kept his finger down
there. He moved it to the outside lips, caressing them softly
and sweetly and gently. He sat up next to me, looking down
at me, and I reached up and touched his mouth, a wide
tilde surrounded by little inverted commas. He sucked my
finger, bit it gently, while he moved his hand again, put his
finger in me again, and then another finger, and another. I
could feel the bones, the knuckles in his hand, as it became
a fist, and I could feel the movement of his arm, taking me
far away, beyond words and almost beyond consciousness.
Totally out of control, until finally I had to grab his arm and
beg him to stop, gasping and kissing him wherever I could
reach.
    He turned off the light and curled up into himself, and I
put my arms around his back, my cheek against his shoulder
blade. Enough rough strife for one day, I thought, time to give
it a rest. Tomorrow, though... well, tomorrow, we'd see.

     

The Second Day
JONATHAN
    'he rain woke me up just before dawn. It was pounding
loudly on the tile roof, dripping down on our little balcony, outside our window, whose faded blue shutters were
still open. I remembered the women in the yard taking the
sheets off the line yesterday afternoon, and I felt absurdly
happy that they hadn't got their laundry wet. I put my arms
around her and rubbed my front against her back, my cock
against her ass, and fell back to sleep for maybe an hour.
    And when next I woke up it was still raining, but the
room was filled with pearly gray light, and she was up, she'd
turned around and her face, her mouth, were against my chest,
her arms around my waist. I remembered how demanding
she'd been last night, and how exasperated I'd felt, but all that
seemed comic, cartoonish, in the pastel morning, the smell of
the rain dripping from the trees in the courtyard.

    I detached her arms, and I got up on my knees and
crawled down to the bottom of the bed, and "Ummmmmmm,"
she sighed as I put my head between her legs. It's different,
early morning sex. It's something your body does before your
mind's quite itself, all the little complexities and annoyances
still sweetly blurred. It's kinder.