Chapter 15

Abby:

Paul closes the space between us and sets his hands over mine. For a moment, I think he’s going to tell me no, send me back out to the living room. Instead, he takes over and begins undressing me himself. I relinquish my hold on my own shirt and let him pull it over my head. I pinch the clasp of my bra between my breasts, suddenly thankful for my unconscious choice to wear a front closure bra tonight. I’d chosen it for its color, not how easy it would be to get off. Once it’s on the floor, I reach for Paul’s shirt, pulling it up over his head.

He watches hungrily as I gracefully slide my skirt down my tan legs to reveal the black lace panties that I know he’s been catching glimpses of all evening. Already divested of my shirt and bra, I strip off my panties and step toward him. Goosebumps shoot up his torso as I gently graze the hair below his navel with my fingernails.

The more clothing that we shed, the more I feel like a vixen, a seductress and begin to take control of the situation. As, I press both of his hands to the wall above his head, I hold his wrists with one of my hands and slide the other down to grip his arousal. A moan reaches my ears. His soft sound of desire almost escapes my senses.

Soon we’re both naked and still kissing and fondling. he pulls one hand out of my hold and reaches to turn on the shower. Once the water is running warm, I step in. Following my gentle prodding, he steps into the shower, under the warm water, letting it flow over his back. I press my hands to his hips and turn him around, splaying my hands across is stomach as I do so. As we move past each other in the narrow tub, to switch places, our bodies brush against each other, and I become even more aroused by the sensation.

I stand under the water, letting it wash over me while he watches. I’m not content to simply watch him and be watched. I have to touch, need to touch. I notice body wash in a corner, cucumber melon—my favorite scent. He still uses it after all this time apart. I file that thought away, unable to unpack it right now. I open the bottle with a soft click, pour some into my hands, and rub them together to warm the cool gel before rubbing his body with it. I spread my hands across his chest and stomach, caressing, wandering. After a few moments, I can’t resist the urge to let them wander lower, but for this, I get more body wash.

I rub him into full rock-hard arousal. When he’s thoroughly aroused, I wrap my hand around him and pull him under the spray of water with me. Stroking the length of him until he’s pumping into my hand as much as I’m sliding my fist up and down his shaft. When all the body wash has run off his body and down the drain, I turn him back to face me and roughly press him up against the tiled wall behind him. Dropping to my knees, I drag my fingernails down his body, and he gasps in response. His erection juts proudly between us, close enough for me to lick. I gently graze the tip of his extended member with the tip of my tongue and can feel him stretching, pulsating against my lips.

Wanting so much more than just to give him head in the shower, I stand and turn off the water, leading him, still dripping wet, from the bathroom and into the bedroom. I push him down onto the bed and climb atop him. Before he can make a move to initiate a closer intimacy, I’m straddling him and pressing the tip of his hardness to my entrance. I want him inside me so badly but know it will only feel that much better if I let the anticipation build. I hover there, our bodies barely touching as I lean down and press a feather-light kiss to his lips.

The moment our lips connect, Paul’s arms come up to wrap around me, pressing my bare chest to his, and his cock slides just the tiniest bit farther inside me. I lock my hips, refusing to let him further in and he groans in a mix of pleasure and frustration.

“Do you have protection?” I kick myself for not asking this sooner.

Paul freezes, his eyes going wide. “Shit.”

What twenty-something guy doesn’t keep condoms near his bed? The kind who doesn’t have a lot of sex. Has he been celibate all this time?

As much as it pains me to do it, I move off of him and climb off the bed.

Paul’s head falls back on the bed, his eyes closed in utter defeat. He must think we’re not going to have sex now. Lucky for us both, I always come prepared.

I jog, fully naked, back out to his living room to retrieve my purse and carry it back to his bedroom with me, so I can grab a condom from its depths on the journey. I’m ready to roll, condom in hand and unwrapped by the time I make it back to his bed. Paul’s still right where I left him, eyes still closed, cock still standing proudly at attention.

I climb back on the bed, straddling him once again, and the way his eyes shoot wide again is delightful. Even more so, when his eyebrows reach his hairline at the sight of what I hold in my hand. Without a word, he takes it from me quickly and rolls it over himself, then grabs my hips with both hands to position me over him again.

I guide him back to my entrance. Finally, I lower body and revel in the feeling of him penetrating me as I slide down his erection. I repeat the action and am a little surprised when he thrusts his hips up to meet my downward movements. Up until this point, he’s remained mostly passive, as if he’s waiting to see just what I will do next.

It soon becomes a dance, a competition almost. Each of us is trying to reach satisfaction, but also wanting to prolong the pleasure we’re feeling. Finally, I feel that familiar tingle beginning where our bodies were joined. My muscles tighten and squeeze around him as waves of ecstasy overtake me. At some point, the pleasure becomes the only thing I can focus on, the only thought in my mind, the only thing that exists in this moment. I’m vaguely aware of him thrusting into me a final time and letting out a low moan as I fall limply onto his chest, still shaking from the force of my orgasm.

I’m not sure how long it takes for coherent thought to return. We lie like that for a while. At some point, I roll off him and he curls around me, cupping my body with his own.

I awake sometime before dawn, feeling him breathing heavily against my neck. I carefully extract myself from his slumbering embrace and rise from the bed. Looking down at him for a moment, I can’t help but think how beautiful he looks lying there, how much like the old Paul. The one who never broke my heart. My body is still sated from our coupling several hours before. As I dress and silently leave his apartment, I know this was a night I will remember for the rest of my life. And one I can never repeat.