Page 58 of A Very Friendly Valentine's Day
She’s moving slow so we can both catch our breaths. I reach for her perky swollen tits, massage them until she drops her head back, moaning.
“You’re so beautiful, Birdie. You don’t even know.”
I sit up, and she arches back so I can kiss her breasts. Her hips sway faster, urgent, and she starts to contract and release around me. I lick her all the way up her neck to her jaw, drag my fingernails down her back, and then spank her ass. Real quick.
She gasps and shudders, and I drive up into her, holding on to her shoulder with one hand, gripping the mattress with the other for support.
“Eddie! Oh my God.”
I can’t form words anymore. I’m just sweat and heavy breathing and grunts and thrusts. I am so fucking grateful for the ab strength to do this, but I need her to come right now so I can too.
I reach up to grab the loose knot of hair on her head, tug on it, and her long waves tumble down all around her just as she falls apart—crying out. Loud and surprised and elated.
I wrap my arms around her tight, letting go of the thing I’ve been holding on to inside of me. There’s a flash and then darkness. Like a train blasting through a tunnel.
I have no sense of how long it took to get here. I don’t know how long it takes for me to get through to the other side. But when I open my eyes, I find Birdie looking into them. She’s a goddess. Her hands on my face, her legs wrapped around my waist. She kisses me so deeply. It takes my breath away and gives me back something that I didn’t realize I had lost—the belief that I deserve a woman like Birdie.
No, that’s not right.
There is no other woman like Birdie.
It’s just Birdie.
I get this flash of a memory—not a memory so much as a feeling—of how I felt back in Ohio. At my brother’s bachelor party. When I was drunk off my ass and all I wanted to do was call her.
She plants kisses all over my face. We’re both damp with sweat, and the covers are all around us. The air is cold, but I don’t care. I’m about to ask her about the voice message I left her again, but she says, “Hey, you.”
“Hey.”
“I think we should do that again when you’re ready.”
My hands are all up in her wild mane of hair. “I think you’d be surprised what I’m ready for now, Bird.”
She rests her forehead against mine. “No more talking tonight. Okay?”
It’s not okay, but also everything is okay.
“Whatever you want” is what I tell her.
But what I’m thinking is:
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
