Page 85 of Quiet Beautiful Things

All I hear is the sound of her breathing and the noise her hands make as they bring me closer to God.

My butt cheeks clench tightly, and I stifle a prolonged groan right before I feel my hot, wet cum spilling across my lower abs.

My head falls back hard against the bed, my body languid as I recover. The need to talk to her, to thank her for one hell of a hand job, almost has me turning on the light. But I don’t. Instead, I revel in the feeling of her snuggling next to me, waiting patiently for her turn. And what a turn I plan to give her.

Waiting for my energy to return, I’m disappointed when she pulls away. Then a moment later, I feel something swiping against my lower abs. She’s cleaning up my mess. I take the tissues from her and finish the job. Then I toss them… somewhere… and get to work, vowing to make her scream my name even if she doesn’t want to.

Palming her soft, silky skin has my dick twitching even though I just came. Still, I’m not about to sink myself inside her until, one: I’ve given her an orgasm she’ll never forget, and two: I’m hard as a rock and ready to fuck like Superman.

I don’t go right for the kill. I trail wet kisses across her breasts, down her rib cage, and along her right hip, bypassing her core altogether. She squirms under me as I tease her innerthighs with my five o’clock shadow. As I tongue the inside of her knees. As I kiss all the way down to her bare feet.

Working my way back up, still ignoring her wet center, she grabs my head and puts it where she wants it to be.

That-a-girl.

I work my tongue in and out of her, making love to her with my mouth as I taste the sweet tang of her arousal. I pull away, fearing I might sprain my tongue in my enthusiasm, and replace it with a finger. Then I add another. I feel her arch into me as I rub the inside of her, crooking my fingers to find the spot that will drive her wild.

I know the moment I find it. Her walls tighten slightly, and another faint sound escapes her. I smile, knowing she’s mine until I extract every last quiver. Adding my tongue back into the mix, I tease her clit. I run it in circles. Then side to side. Up and down. I lightly suck it into my mouth and she explodes under me. My fingers get tightly squeezed, her orgasm pulsating against them. My tongue continues to work her clit until she urges me away, too sensitive to receive any more.

I roll to the side and wipe my mouth with my forearm. Then a hand lands on my chest as if a dead weight had dropped onto it. I chuckle and grab it, holding it in mine as I listen to her breathing become calm and slow, envisioning her limp body basking in afterglow.

I’m fully hard again and ready to roll. But I’m struck by the question… does she want more? Do I break character and ask her? I want to see her. I want to see her eyes. But she chose to have it this way for a reason, so I remain still and wait for a… sign.

Her hand disappears and her weight shifts on the bed. Then her hand is back in mine, a little square package nestled between our palms. I’m not sure if I’m happy or bothered by the fact that she has her own supply of condoms. I choose to believeshe bought them recently in anticipation. But curiosity has me already composing a text in my head to tactfully ask her how many guys there have been. And then another text telling her that there won’t be any more. Not after me.

I search for her face, careful not to poke her in the eye, and put my hand to her lips to see if she’s smiling.She’s not. Then again, I don’t think I smile after a good orgasm either. I just lie back and savor the moment.

Her lips capture one of my fingers, sucking it into her mouth as if it’s another part of my anatomy.

That, paired with the condom, is all the permission I need. I hastily pull my hand away, rip open the package and slide it on. She reaches for my dick and gives it a few tugs. Is she making sure I’m hard? Or checking to make sure I put it on? I momentarily wonder if she trusts men at all after what her wife-beating father did to her.

Pushing the thought aside, I move to get on top of her, but she pushes me back down. I feel her climb on top of me and guide me inside her, slowly at first, as if testing the waters. Then she comes down harder, fully seating my cock until I can feel the end of her. As she rides me, I only have my imagination to guide me in what she might look like. Is her head angled back? Is her mouth slack? Are her breasts bouncing with every movement?

Her hands explore my chest as her thighs do all the work to keep her sliding up and down my shaft. I grip her hips, helping with the motion. It’s not enough. I need to feel more of her. I cup her breasts. I work her nipples between my fingers. I feather my thumb across her clit to find it engorged again. I want her to come with me inside her. I need to feel her orgasm clench my cock and milk it until we’re both completely and utterly drained.

She moves faster. So do I. I lightly pinch her clit between my thumb and forefinger and she drives down onto me even harder. So I do it again. And then again. And once more, until she stillsand spasms on top of me. I pump up my hips three more times, her name echoing off the walls as I join her in ecstasy.

She collapses down onto my chest and I wrap her in my arms. We lay this way, only beads of sweat between us.

Is there even a way to tell her she’s the best I’ve ever had? Once could have been a fluke. Ithadbeen a while. But twice? And this time was even better. It was an out-of-body experience. More intense than anything I’ve ever felt.

Is it because it was just us in the silence and the darkness?

It’s because you love her.

Still lying on my chest, she takes my hand in hers, places her other hand against my open palm, and…spells something?When I don’t react, she does it again. I focus all my energy on the tactile sensation and try to feel the letters. There are only three of them. W-O-W.

Okay, yeah. I definitely fucking love her.

I swallow at the thought. It’s not the first time I’ve had it. But it is the first time I’ve known it to be unequivocally, undeniably, indisputably true. Something flows through me. A lava river reaches the end of every finger and toe. It weaves through my body, warming every nook and cranny. Like a hand, it works itself right around my heart and squeezes. It squeezes hard. Because for the first time in my life, I fear I’m in a position I never thought I’d be in. I’m in love with someone who may not love me back.

The vulnerability of that slams into me like a bullet from a gun. I gently roll her off me and go into the other room.

Fuck. The word rolls around in my head as I pad out to the kitchen, still completely naked. I find a glass, fill it, and stand still, silently chugging water, hoping to calm the voices in my head.

I spy the fortune cookie container on the counter and wonder if it has any wise words for me.

Couldn’t hurt to see.

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