to compare Wade and Bobby, to line their naked bodies beside each other in her mind’s eye and catalog the differences, arises; she has a vision of Stephanie asking scandalous questions of comparison. She fights these thoughts off. She will not do that here. Everywhere else but not here.
She thinks of Wade again: the smell of him, his way. She visualizes their kissing episode in the car earlier, his hand finding the curve of her ass through the dress, the moistness between her legs as he fondled her. She feels the moistness returning. She reaches her hand backward across the bed, searching for his groin. He slides over to accommodate her reach. His erection has dwindled, but it responds to her trembling fingers.
When he swells solid in her grip, she turns and straddles him, pushing down on his chest with her free hand. Her other hand is still holding his cock, fully erect now, and she lowers herself onto it. She stops, her body clenching as it adjusts to a distantly familiar sensation; the pain lessens in spasms. When he’s fully inside her, she starts to ride him. He reaches around the middle of her stomach, his fingers nearly touching across the small of her back. The physical dynamics are awkward—he is tall and she is short and this is their first go—but they settle into a pleasurable rhythm. Tina’s tears return involuntarily and Wade stops moving when he notices. He starts to say something, but she kisses him, urges him on, takes control of their fucking, because she wants this, she needs this, needs to feel alive again, to sweat and to thrust and to fuck, to feel him throbbing inside of her, to cry and to scream and to come.
And she does. She has a ferocious orgasm that sends shudders up and down her body. The intensity of it sends her nails digging into the wiry muscle of his biceps, drives her teeth together in a jarring gnash. She remembers to breathe and the feeling expands and she puts everything into it and lets go. It crests and slowly descends; she feels like she’s floating backward through a door toward humanity.
Her orgasm surprises Wade too, who comes in response, his fingers tensing as they slide down and grip the cheeks of her ass. She feels his stiffening spurt and slithery retreat; even after he’s gone soft, their groins are still joined in sticky, wet congress. Tina feels an urge to hike her sex up to his face and grind her groin over his mouth, to have his hands on her ass as she careens toward another orgasm. She doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t want to start thinking again.
“Jesus Christ,” Wade says, breathlessly. “Holy shit.”
She feels the world returning.
“Holy shit,” he says again, reaching a hand up for her tears.
Her crying becomes a wet giggle. She leans down and kisses him, then lays her head down on his chest. The room has a fecund stink, the smell of sex. Tina yawns, suddenly exhausted.
“Tired?” he asks, half jokingly.
“Long day,” she says and then, through a hazy euphoria, she remembers how it started, with her telling Gail and the heartrending look on Gail’s face. Then Bobby is back in her head and Stephanie is asking her questions in the bathroom and Alyssa is frowning at her smoking and Bobby Jr. needs something. So before the whole crew can get properly started and ruin this moment, she tucks herself under Wade’s arm, closes her eyes, and falls asleep.
* * *
Tina wakes with a shiver. She feels Wade’s body coiled behind her. They fell asleep in a loose spoon, his hand is still draped over her shoulder. She’s still naked and the thin bedsheet isn’t much cover. She lifts his arm gently, slides out of bed, and retrieves her underwear off the floor. As she’s putting them on, she spots the shirt he was wearing earlier, draped over an easy chair in the corner. She slips it on, like she’s seen in movies but never actually done herself. Bobby almost never wore dress shirts. The shirt is comically long on her, like a nightgown; the hem sits
She thinks of Wade again: the smell of him, his way. She visualizes their kissing episode in the car earlier, his hand finding the curve of her ass through the dress, the moistness between her legs as he fondled her. She feels the moistness returning. She reaches her hand backward across the bed, searching for his groin. He slides over to accommodate her reach. His erection has dwindled, but it responds to her trembling fingers.
When he swells solid in her grip, she turns and straddles him, pushing down on his chest with her free hand. Her other hand is still holding his cock, fully erect now, and she lowers herself onto it. She stops, her body clenching as it adjusts to a distantly familiar sensation; the pain lessens in spasms. When he’s fully inside her, she starts to ride him. He reaches around the middle of her stomach, his fingers nearly touching across the small of her back. The physical dynamics are awkward—he is tall and she is short and this is their first go—but they settle into a pleasurable rhythm. Tina’s tears return involuntarily and Wade stops moving when he notices. He starts to say something, but she kisses him, urges him on, takes control of their fucking, because she wants this, she needs this, needs to feel alive again, to sweat and to thrust and to fuck, to feel him throbbing inside of her, to cry and to scream and to come.
And she does. She has a ferocious orgasm that sends shudders up and down her body. The intensity of it sends her nails digging into the wiry muscle of his biceps, drives her teeth together in a jarring gnash. She remembers to breathe and the feeling expands and she puts everything into it and lets go. It crests and slowly descends; she feels like she’s floating backward through a door toward humanity.
Her orgasm surprises Wade too, who comes in response, his fingers tensing as they slide down and grip the cheeks of her ass. She feels his stiffening spurt and slithery retreat; even after he’s gone soft, their groins are still joined in sticky, wet congress. Tina feels an urge to hike her sex up to his face and grind her groin over his mouth, to have his hands on her ass as she careens toward another orgasm. She doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t want to start thinking again.
“Jesus Christ,” Wade says, breathlessly. “Holy shit.”
She feels the world returning.
“Holy shit,” he says again, reaching a hand up for her tears.
Her crying becomes a wet giggle. She leans down and kisses him, then lays her head down on his chest. The room has a fecund stink, the smell of sex. Tina yawns, suddenly exhausted.
“Tired?” he asks, half jokingly.
“Long day,” she says and then, through a hazy euphoria, she remembers how it started, with her telling Gail and the heartrending look on Gail’s face. Then Bobby is back in her head and Stephanie is asking her questions in the bathroom and Alyssa is frowning at her smoking and Bobby Jr. needs something. So before the whole crew can get properly started and ruin this moment, she tucks herself under Wade’s arm, closes her eyes, and falls asleep.
* * *
Tina wakes with a shiver. She feels Wade’s body coiled behind her. They fell asleep in a loose spoon, his hand is still draped over her shoulder. She’s still naked and the thin bedsheet isn’t much cover. She lifts his arm gently, slides out of bed, and retrieves her underwear off the floor. As she’s putting them on, she spots the shirt he was wearing earlier, draped over an easy chair in the corner. She slips it on, like she’s seen in movies but never actually done herself. Bobby almost never wore dress shirts. The shirt is comically long on her, like a nightgown; the hem sits
Similar Books
