She sat down on the bed and looked at me with big eyes. “Can you tell me what to do?”
I froze, my hand still on the door handle.
“I want you to fuck me so I forget about today. Tell me what to do so I don’t have to think.”
For a moment, I lost my words. I had no idea what to say, my brain short circuiting and my body freezing. I’d experienced enough therapy in the last decade to have an understanding of where her head was at.
Sex was cathartic. It was a release. It could be a safe place to experiment with boundaries that had no bearing on a day-to-day life. For me, it had given me a space to take control, to look after, to bring pleasure and find mine afterwards.
Later, when the timing was better, we’d have a conversation about this, about what was driving her right now, because when you understood why you wanted something, it was easier to ask for it.
Right now though, I didn’t want to be the lover I was used to. My drives, my needs, were different. I wanted to hold her closer and touch her like she was made of delicate glass.
I swallowed. I found those words. “How do you want me to fuck you?”
“Hard.” Her voice was husky, filled with too much of something.
I moved to the bed, pulling off my T-shirt, seeing her eyes flicker over my chest. I crawled over her, Jerrica leaning back onto her mattress, her hands coming to my shoulders. I took her lips in a rough kiss, bracing myself over her.
Her hands trailed from my shoulders down my chest, her fingers playing near the waistband of the sweats I was wearing. I was hard, there was no way I couldn’t be. Instinct was kicking in, the adrenaline from the win, from what happened after, from hearing those words. I let it take over, knowing that this would remind me that we were both still breathing, that we were both still present.
I knelt up, staring down at her, her face still pale and her eyes red from the tears that she’d shed, but the light was back there.
“Take your top off.”
She sat up, pulling off her top, leaving her in just her bra, a white lacy thing that looked designed to drive me mad.
“And bra. I want to see your tits.”
Her hands went to between her breasts, the fastening there. She took her sweet time to undo it, pulling it away with more tease than shyness.
I looked my fill, the swell of her breasts tipped with those hard nipples that had become one of my favourite things to daydream about.
“Pinch them for me.” I was lost to what was happening now, the fact we were in her brother’s house now completely irrelevant.
She brought her hands up to her tits, cupping them before doing as I asked. My cock throbbed, my hands itched to touch her myself, but I kept my control and watched.
“Take off your leggings.”
She pulled them off, leaving her in just her underwear, a thong that matched the bra now on the floor.
“Good girl. I love how you do as you’re told.”
Her smile was my reward.
Hers was coming — literally.
“How do you want to come? On my face or on my hand?”
Her cheeks flushed. “Your hand. On your knee. Please.”
Like the first time. I turned around so I was sitting on the edge of the bed, sweats tented, the lamplight illuminating her profile when I turned to her.
“Sit here.” I pointed to my knee.
Jerrica slid over to me, getting close enough so I could pull her over, place her where I wanted her.
I started with another kiss, one of my hands going to her waist, the other cupping a breast. I teased and toyed, controlling her mouth, exploring her skin, my hands reading the twine of muscle and sinew and smoothness, the soft roundness of her stomach, the slope between her thighs to where heat and wetness accrued.
