happily onto the nearby bed with a squeal, and clap as Fish reaches for his underwear, clearly intending to rip them off.
“Wait!” I command. “You promised me the grand finale of today’s striptease.”
“Ah, yes.”
“A deal’s a deal.”
Chuckling, Fish lets go of his waistband and pulls his phone out of his jeans on the floor. He fiddles with his device for a moment, his rock-hard bulge straining behind his undies and his chest heaving with excitement, until, finally, a song begins blaring from his phone. It’s a rock song that’s either really, really old or really, really new and intending to sound super cool and retro. I’m truly not sure which.
After placing his blaring phone on the nightstand, Fish gives me a show, to the thumping beat of the song. And as he dances and shakes his ass in his underwear, I can’t help noticing the lyrics of the song. Clearly, my hot boyfriend chose this song purposefully—as a love letter to me. The words of the song are simple ones that get straight to the point. There’s no poetry here. No metaphors. The singer wants to be with his girl all the time. “Day and night.” Indeed, he says, quite passionately, he never wants to leave her side, ever, because he only ever feels “all right” when he’s with her. By her side.
“What is this?” I ask, indicating the phone.
“The Kinks!” Fish says. He stops dancing. “‘All Day and All of the Night.’ It’s a classic.”
I shrug, confirming I’ve never heard this one before. And he faux scowls at me, like I’ve somehow offended him.
I laugh. “Is it from the seventies?”
“The sixties! For the love of fuck, woman. It’s one of the greatest love songs ever written. Listen carefully. They’re saying everything I feel, to a T.” He smiles. “I’ve actually had this song stuck in my head for weeks.”
How is it possible for a man to be this sweet and loving? He’s like a puppy. There’s literally not a single mean or hurtful bone in his body. But lucky for me, he’s also sexy as hell. And, currently, hard as a rock behind those tighty-whities.
My smile turns sexual and heated. “Can I snap a photo, before you take off those undies? You look incredible right now. I never want to forget this moment.”
He shrugs. “Knock yourself out.”
I grab my phone off the nightstand. And to my surprise, Fish poses for me with enthusiasm this time, looking far more comfortable in his skin than the time he posed for me in his underwear during one of our earliest video chats. Wow. Fish isn’t self-conscious or shy this time. He’s not wondering what to do with his hands. No, this time, my hunky boyfriend is smoldering at me, every bit as much as Colin did on that billboard in Times Square.
“Well, that shot ought to come in handy on lonely nights,” I say, plopping my phone onto the nightstand.
“Let’s not talk about lonely nights this week,” Fish says. “I don’t even want to think about being away from you, ever again.”
Oh, my heart. “Same.”
We share a look of pure longing at our predicament—at that fact that, in about a week, Fish will hop onto a flight back to LA, while I stay in Boston.
“I shouldn’t have mentioned that,” I say. “Come on. Continue your striptease—but fast-forward to the part where you whip it out, if you don’t mind.”
Without hesitation, and no finesse whatsoever, Fish rips off his undies and flings them across the room, making me laugh. And then he stands before me, his dick straining, his green eyes blazing, and his hands on his hips. “Come to Papa,” he murmurs.
Giggling, I lie back onto the bed and spread my legs slightly, letting him know I’m his for the taking. That I’m not nervous tonight. At all. Only excited and wet and ready.
Fish crawls onto the bed next to me, pulls off my underwear, and begins kissing every inch of my body. My breasts. Rib cage. Belly button. He licks and sucks my stiff nipples, making me groan and clutch his hair. He kisses my inner thighs, making me shudder violently with arousal and anticipation.
After a while, when I’m moaning and shaking, he begins brushing his fingers up and down my folds, making me quiver and yearn like nothing I’ve felt before.
Breathing hard, he begins tracing the recent pathway of his fingers with his mouth. But he’s teasing me. Kissing my delicate folds with precision, while seemingly taking care never to