This day has drained me and all that’s left are my aching, heavy bones. I close my eyes as he removes his shoes and climbs into bed beside me. He pulls me close as I breathe him in like a deprived addict. He doesn’t smell of a particular cologne or aftershave, but his scent is calming. It’s the familiar scent of promise and hope. It’s the scent of home that I’ve always imagined we’d have. I smile as I feel him breathe me in, too. Look at us—two pathetic individuals who can’t seem to get it right.
“If I don’t touch you at least once a day, my whole day feels like a waste,” he whispers, already kissing down the side of my face. My limp body starts to respond to his soft lips. “I wish you would let me see you every day. It’s not good for us to be apart.” I do see him every day, he just doesn’t know it. He doesn’t know that I can’t start my day without seeing him. I know what suit he chooses, how he styles his hair, I even know which car picks him up. But he gets to have a family while I get to watch, so he doesn’t have the privilege of having it all.
“Why didn’t you come to our apartment? I’ve been working from there all day hoping you’d turn up. It’s our place and yet you haven’t been there in years.”
I will never go back to that place. I stiffen as my resolve hardens. He knows what that space means to me. He knows what that place means to us. Everything I’ve ever wished, imagined, and prayed for was ripped away from me there. I’d rather live on the street than go back there. He stops kissing down my neck when he feels my body tense up at the mere mention of our place. I’m not stupid, I know there is no “our.” I push away from him as I turn toward the window.
“Jeff, when will you let me go?” I ask, knowing that the answer is never.
“Why would you want me to let you go? You are my life, Sara, our time will come, and then we will never have to be apart again, baby.” I wonder if he means when we die and then our poor lost souls can finally be together like Romeo and Juliet.
He moves my hair to the side and kisses my exposed neck. His touch feels right as he lowers my dress strap and kisses my shoulder. I can feel him tracing my freckles first with his fingers and then with his tongue. I lower my head back and let out my first moan at the feel of having him with me. He releases a deep groan, pulling me flush against his chest as I mold my body to his. I can feel his erection straining as he slowly starts moving up and down into me. We’re both undulating and breathing hard as our bodies gain traction. He pulls up my dress and slides his hand past my panties right into my crotch. He stops gyrating as he slowly slips his middle finger inside me. It feels like heaven and I don’t want to think of the consequences or the guilt, but just of how good his touch is. I’m dripping as he pumps his wet finger into me slowly.
“I can do this all day,” he chokes out into my neck. “You, only you, baby.”
My eyes are closed and my body begins to melt into his. When he touches me, everything in the world is right again. I would never let or want anyone but him to touch me like this. I’m petrified that if I let someone else touch me—this, him, us, will just disappear and cease to exist.
He withdraws his drenched finger from between my folds and brings it up and starts massaging my clit. It’s slow and lazy at first, but as my breathing becomes notched and my muscles begin to tense, Jeff recognizes how close I am to seeing stars and begins rubbing my clit at a rapid pace. He knows after not seeing me for a whole day, he won’t last long once he finally penetrates me. He wants me on the verge and ready to go, and I am, I’m close…I want him to stop teasing me with his hands and make me his the only way he can, even if it’s a momentary illusion.
He’s still