Page 39 of Tailored for Them

As if they belonged to me, and I belonged to them.

Eating Taylor out was mind-altering because, for a few moments, I was performing as if we were each other’s to claim. As if I were the only one that they ever wanted to receive this attention from. Completely submissive under me, whimpering from my ministrations. Their naked chest and neck were flushed because onlyIwas the one who could see them like this.

Even though we talked about other things, interests, tastes in food, and mutual pet peeves, we never talked about what either of us wanted out of this. Or didn’t want out of this?

“Fuck,” Taylor groaned as I teased their clit with fast and steady flicks of my tongue. They didn’t like to feel stretched, only stimulated. The pads of my two fingers were curling inside of them, teasing that rough patch of nerves that I knew would send them over the edge soon.

While I watched them writhe underneath me, I was surprised I hadn’t collapsed yet. They had already given me three earth-shattering orgasms before this.

C’mon, Taylor, I chanted in my head,give me this, at least.

When they fell apart underneath me, I memorized every aspect of them I could. Every gasp. Every whimper. Every rise and fall of their flat chest. Every flex of their toned stomach. The taste of their tart arousal on my tongue.

I worked them as much as they worked me.

After orgasm number three, they shook their head at me and gently pushed me away from them.

I lifted my head to smile at them, licking my lips.

Taylor whimpered, reached forward. They pulled me up against their chest. They tucked my head under their chin, pulled the covers over us, and wrapped their arms around me. My leg fell between theirs, and we rested in each other’s embrace for a few moments.

“Just let me breathe with you for a little bit,” Taylor whispered against my hair.

We’d cuddled after sex plenty of times before.

Taylor was very adamant about aftercare, which I appreciated.

We’d fallen asleep together a handful of times now, but usually they would wake up and kiss my forehead goodbye. They liked to get up early and go on a run before their workday, and they didn’t want their morning schedule to disrupt mine.

Part of me wondered if that’s what kept this relationship between us so casual.

So, the next morning made me question our relationship even more.

Because we woke up in bed, still completely wrapped up in each other.

It felt way more intimate than anything we did together the previous night.

Even more terrifying, it feltright.

We brushedour teeth in my bathroom together.

Taylor didn’t go on a run. They stuck around.

Both of us were awkward and somehow…not awkward at all. We kept glancing at each other in the mirror, smirking and blushing over nothing.

Should I bring up what I was thinking?

How the pattern of us sleeping together like this for a couple of weeks was starting to plant ideas in my head? Ideas that may or may not have merit, depending on where they stood?

I had no problem asking if Taylor wanted to borrow a spare toothbrush I had stored under my sink, but the thought of asking them, “What are we?” seemed too nerve-wracking to handle.

I needed to talk to them.

About what we were doing, where each of us saw this going.

How I was a relationship person, and doing the casual thing for too long might not be a good idea for the romantic in me.

Plus, we had a lot of mutual friends. Perhaps it was best not to leave the discussion open at all and instead bring up the fact that we should take a break from each other. Stopping whatever was forming between us now, amicably, seemed like a better alternative to getting too attached, only for them to move on to someone else, and accidentally break my heart.

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