I think, and almost as though he heard me, his eyelids flutter open, and his dark eyes are staring straight down at me.
I am seen.
Colby Raines does not think of me as an ugly.
I don’t know how he does think of me, I don’t know what’s going on in his mind, but there is such a terrible tenderness in the look he gives me, a heartbreaking softness totally at odds with the hardness down below. He’s ripping me apart, he’s tearing me to shreds…and his eyes say he would do anything for me, anything at all.
I do not dare name the feeling that this brings up in my heart. I can’t. That’s one risk that goes too far, like I’m a match that has just been struck, and if I’m not careful, I’ll set the world aflame.
When he comes, I imagine I can feel it, or maybe it’s not imagination, I don’t know; the way he thrusts into me, filling me completely, the way I feel his cock swell hard inside me, it all feels real, like every empty place in my soul is filled up by him, and he’s gasping, and now I’m gasping too, I’m clinging to him for dear life.
“I— I—” He’s too swept away to say it, and I am too, I realize, because I can feel it now, the climax that has been building and building, and when it explodes through me, I cry out in a voice much too loud for this exposed, public position, but I do not care, I cannot care, the entire world needs to know just how he makes me feel.
I explode and explode and explode; I’m a supernova that never fades. He’s still so thick inside me but I can’t even tell anymore, he has become me, I am him, where our bodies meet, they join, become one. This is something I would never dare say to a living soul. It is too mystical, too much like a secret, but in this moment, there is no us, there are not two.
I’d wonder if he feels the same way, but if we are now one body, then I know he must, because we share the same mind.
At some point, we slip back into the real world. Our bodies and souls separate, peeling off into our individual selves, and yet the echo of that magic still remains, thrumming just beneath my skin.
We stare at one another in wonder.
“That wasn’t like…earlier,” he breathes in a voice so soft it can hardly carry to my ear.
I shake my head. “No,” I say. “It wasn’t like anything that has ever happened to me.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“I feel… I feel…”
I don’t want worry to cross his brow the way it is doing, as he struggles to find the words he needs to say.
“You feel,” I tell him. “That’s the important part.”
He nods, his face so somber we might have been talking over a great tragedy, rather than something that sparked life back into me.
I feel like I have risen from the dead.
It’s funny. He can’t say what he needs to say, and if I start telling him about how I feel, he’s going to look at me like I’m crazy. Rising from the dead. Inwardly, silently, I laugh at myself. No way am I telling him that.
But I don’t know where this leaves us.
Somewhere different than we were before, that’s for sure.
Does he see that? I almost dare not ask him.
This isn’t employees with benefits or something. We’re not fucking just because we want to fuck.
Something else is happening, at least with me, at least in the secret places of my heart.
I wish I could tell if he felt the same way. I wish I were brave enough to ask him.
I wish reality did not close in on us like a black and rushing tide. Because when I look around the kitchen I mutter, “Oh shit,” and he follows my glance and laughs.
“Did we do that?” he asks, gesturing at the mess on the floor.
“Oh god, my shirt! Noah’s shirt!”
I try to get up and start cleaning…but, it’s a funny thing about using butter as lube, it’s slippery, and I nearly go sliding off the counter, calling out in fear, and Colby is laughing so hard he almost doesn’t catch me, but then at the last minute, his strong hand is on my wrist, keeping me from disaster.
I’m laughing too, I can’t help it, it’s so ludicrous, and