“You just called me a slut.”
“No I didn’t. I mean I did, but I meant it as the highest compliment. Like mother earth, goddess, slut. Please don’t leave.”
“This is a safe space. So I’ll admit I kind of liked it.” Belen sat up on her knees, unclasping her bra. She tossed it into our growing pile of scattered clothing. Enveloping my penis in between her breast, she glided up and down, her lips French kissing the tip on the way up. The perfect mix of wetness, warmth, and pressure.
Do you wanna see a dead body?Because in that moment, I was pronounced deceased. Death by a dick sucking assassin. Apparently, she had the power to not only take life but to restore it, with vibrations from her humming which shot down my spine, shocking me back to life. My body shivering in a state of euphoria as Belen swallowed every last drop.
When the ability of speech returned, I asked, “Where’s your overnight bag?”
“Oh I left it in the car. I thought it best to play things by ear.”
“I’ll go get it.” Lifting her to her feet, I kissed her lips, which moments before was the epicenter of my pleasure.
Pulling on my jeans and shirt, I stopped in the kitchen, crossing off one of Belen’s sex items off the list.
With my overnightbag on the bathroom floor, I rummaged through the items looking for pajamas that it was clear I’d forgotten to pack. Clutching the towel around my chest, I opted for a tank top and undies. His bathroom was spacious and we could have both gotten ready for bed in the space, but Kris grabbed his toiletries so I could have the primary bathroom all to myself. Honestly, I was happy for the break. When he was in the same space as me, I found it hard to think about anything else but touching him.
In the shower, I had flashbacks of him fingering me and had to resist the urge to replicate his touch. I was spending the night and hoped to get in at least five additional sex acts before the night was through. Maybe five was being ambitious, seeing how it was almost one in the morning. But I intended to use this man up till the last leg twitch and deep moan. I was like a squirrel storing up orgasms for the long winter. Securing my hair under a silk floral scarf, I exited the bathroom.
Climbing into the king size bed, his arms opened wide to receive me. I settled my head on his shoulder, rubbing my hand over his bare chest.
“You smell good,” he said. “It’s going to be hard to get any sleep with you next to me.”
“Sleep is overrated.” I planted a kiss on his skin. My hand brushing over the soft hairs on his abdomen leading to his dick. Kris seemed to absentmindedly stroke my skin. I missed the feeling of being swallowed up in someone’s strong arms. It’s funny the things one can learn to live without. I’d gone almost a full year without this type of intimacy and now that Kris was showing me what I was missing, it would be difficult to go back to my regularly scheduled program once this fling was over.
Who said it has to end?A little voice in my head asked. I ignored it because I refused to let myself get caught up in hypotheticals. Before I met Kris, I wasn’t even thinking about a serious relationship. I was fine with work, volunteering, and spending time with Celeste. Getting all wrapped up in the possibility of something more would only make my heart ache harder when it was over.
Kris cleared his throat, pulling me from my thoughts. “If you don’t mind me asking … what happened to your mom?”
My head recoiled. “Way to ruin the mood there Kringle.”
“I’m sorry it just popped into my head and I realized it’s not something we’ve ever discussed.”
“She died.”
“Damn, I’m sorry.”
“No, it happened years ago, a random act of violence.” I sat up and leaned on the fluffed pillow behind me.
Kris followed suit, sitting up he reached for my hand, waiting for me to continue.
“It was Christmas Eve and she was doing some last-minute shopping and this guy walked into the store with a gun.”
His eyes grew wide and his body shivered. “And that’s why you hate Christmas.”
“That, my dad, and the holiday in general just seems to be jinxed. One year my apartment caught on fire and I lost everything. Faulty Christmas lights. Another Christmas Celeste and I were headed to visit family and my car broke down. It was days before Christmas nothing was opened and we spent Christmas Day in a roach infested hotel room and for dinner we ate at this shady restaurant that I’m convinced was a drug front. So, year after year, my Christmases have sucked.”
Normally I didn’t talk about my hatred of Christmas. People couldn’t relate. Everyone was excited about spending time with family, eating good food, and opening presents. I spent the month of December bracing myself for the worse. Without fail something bad always happened. Sometimes it was small, like the store being all out of turkeys the year after my dad’s passing when I was trying to give Celeste a normal Christmas. Other times it was a canceled flight that forced me to spend the holidays in the airport with strangers. Each inconvenience caused me to cry like a four-year-old lost in a mall. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have a sobbing meltdown in the freezer section of the grocery store?
“How old were you when it happened?”
“I was ten. Without her, everything changed and just like that my childhood was kind of over.”
“Tell me about her.”
His words gave me pause. I hadn’t talked about her in so long. Sometimes I couldn’t remember which parts were real and which ones I’d made up. “I remember she liked to dance. She’d try to teach us dance moves all the time. Her favorite color was yellow and she loved movies that made her laugh. It’s weird because my memories are more like glimpses.”
“How’d Celeste handle it?”
