Melissa
The day had been long, the emotions short, and the fatigue enormous.
But when Corey spoke to me like that, I finally felt free of any burden. I felt…
Good.
Hopeful.
Like I could be honest and vulnerable.
Like I didn’t have to follow in the footsteps of my parents.
We could be successful. We didn’t have to repeat history in any sense of the word. We could…love.
“That’s all I ever wanted to hear,” I said. “And I’m not blaming you. I’m not saying it’s your fault for not saying it earlier. I just needed to let you say it. I just needed to hear it said.”
“It’s all good,” Corey said. “We’ve been through a shitload. A lot of hard times and rough times. And I’ve been a dick. But no more.”
He chuckled.
“Well, besides during sex, but you know what I mean.”
I burst out laughing at that, way more than the joke called for. But hey, a stress reliever was sometimes a good thing, right?
And as it turned out, it was a little bit more than that.
“No more of that,” I said, scooting over the couch slowly to him. “But a lot more of what we were once were.”
“No,” Corey said. “What we are once again.”
It was all I needed to hear from him. I grabbed his shirt, pulled him in, and the two of us collapsed into the couch. I wanted him and I craved him, but this time it felt different.
This wasn’t the primal lusting to see “how far we could go.” This wasn’t libido spiked by alcohol and a certain feeling of things being taboo. This was nothing but true, genuine attraction and love for each other.
And as a result, even though I knew what would follow would likely feel and play out similar to last time, I knew it would “feel” so very different. So very much better. So very much more joyful.
I lifted Corey’s shirt off of him, and he quickly followed suit. There was one difference right there—we didn’t rush to tear each other’s clothes off. We had all the time in the world. We could explore each other’s bodies. What was the rush when we had all night?
Well, the rush, if you could call it that, was how wet I was getting and how hard Corey was getting. At some point, love would give way to carnal desire and we’d get naked. And as he moved his hand behind my back, unclasped my bra, and tossed it to the side, that primal lust was starting to overpower the slipping desire to go slow and take our time.
I closed my eyes as he did what he wanted with everything from my hips up. He kissed my neck. He squeezed my breasts. He suckled on my nipples. He ran his tongue down my stomach. He moved back up and bit on my ear and breathed into it. Holy fuck, it all felt incredible.
I reached down with my right hand into his pants as best I could. I had to push them aside some, but I didn’t have to reach far to feel his throbbing cock. I grabbed it and jerked loosely as he continued working me over; it almost felt unfair how Corey could seem to remain focused on me while I struggled to barely remember to keep my hand on his dick, let alone to stroke and give him any pleasure.
Luckily, I didn’t think the bar was very high for me to pleasure him. Judging by how he was somehow getting harder by the moment, thrusting into me, and generally just moaning my name, I think I was doing it right.
He sat up for a second, but only so he could rip my pants and underwear off. It was so fast I could barely process that I was naked. But I could definitely process when his tongue came down over my pussy and started to lick me off.
That alone made me feel fucking incredible, like nothing I’d ever felt before. But pushing it even further, to the level that went beyond mere physical pleasure, was the feeling, the certainty, the absolute reality that this was going to last. We’d broken up once; we’d discussed what we needed to from before; we would not make the same mistakes again. The stakes were too high and our emotions were too strong for each other.
Holy fuck.
We were going to last.
We were going to last!
“Oh, Corey,” I moaned as my hands ran through his hair.
