“Now, Marty, I need you now.” I sound like I'm crying, and I'm starting to scare myself.
He laughs a little, but his eyes are serious, bearing down into mine. “Jenna, I can't.”
“What?” I would be less surprised if the ceiling came crashing down, yet his face is a picture of calm.
“I need a condom,” he says simply.
“Fuck!” I yell out. I'm soaked and although I know I have some by the sink – a handful I packed in an act that felt fun but almost pointless at the time - I'm a dripping mess and I really don't want to have to walk across the room in a state of undress after I've put myself in this position that is now starting to feel anything but sexy.
“Do you not have any?” he asks, now looking more concerned.
“You don't?” I ask.
“I wasn't planning on this,” he says.
What the hell does that mean? He didn't want to sleep with me?
I shake away these thoughts with a flick of my head. “I have some, over there.” I point to the vanity case on the shelf under the sink. “In that bag.”
“Stay right there,” he says giving me a brief kiss.
I feel the warmth of his body leave mine and the urge to cry suddenly crashes into me. I close my eyes again - this time out of embarrassment - and wait. I feel foolish for forgetting about condoms. I feel foolish for being so needy. I almost feel foolish for being so incredibly turned on, but then the woman in me that I've been nurturing and healing since my divorce starts to speak to me. I know if I have anything to feel embarrassed about it's not being turned on. My sexuality is never something to apologise for. If only feeling these things was as easy as knowing them.
“Are you okay?” he asks when he's back in front of me, opening my eyes with another kiss.
“I feel like a bit of an idiot not thinking about protection.”
“Well, it's more for me to think about, isn’t it?” he says.
I nod, again wondering why he then didn't bring any.
“You want to pick up where we left off?” He nuzzles my neck. I look down and see the condom is already on him and the site of the latex and the squeeze it has on his dick is still a bit of shock. For over twelve years, I haven’t had sex with condoms and so this will take a bit of getting used to. Fear rises in me; fear that this isn’t going to be the spectacular sex I expected. I want to face-palm myself for not having more realistic expectations.
But then his tongue is licking along my collarbone and one of his hands is on my breast. His mouth dips to my other nipple and he kisses, sucks and nibbles. It sends bolts of heat and tension between my legs and I'm rubbing my thighs together, almost as turned on as I was when I was begging him to fuck me.
“Yes,” I say. “Yes, please.”
He smiles against my breast, and I feel his hand tap my right leg. “Go on, back in that sexy as fuck position.”
I try to contain my grin, as I lean back against the wall, prop my leg up and lift my foot. Then I pull my dress up again and show him where I want him.
“Say it again,” he says, looking right into my eyes.
“Say what?” I ask, confused.
“Say you need me. Ask me to fuck you. And say my name.” His voice is so sincere and sexy, I wish I could record it.
“I need you, Marty. Fuck me,” I say, and I bring my fingers between my legs, feeling how swollen my clit is. “Please fuck me, now.”
His smile shines out of every one of his features; his eyes sparkling, his cheeks high, his dimples deep, and his mouth stretched so very wide. In one single movement, he puts his left hand under my right leg, and lifts me up and against the wall. I look down and see his other hand guide his dick against my pussy. The slide of him, the slick latex and the heat of his cock as it rubs back and forth over my clit has me gasping in a rough but deep breath.
“Please,” I say again, worried he's going to make me wait.
“Jenna,” he says again, and I say his name back to him, repeating it, mumbling it, swallowing it until I feel the head of him find my entrance and in one swift, firm motion, he's inside me.
And I come.
I come so suddenly and so hard I dig my nails into his back and gasp out a loud, high-pitched “Oh!” that echoes in my ears. I come as he stays still, pushing me against the wall, holding my leg up and whispering my name in my ear.
