What had I just done?
And why did I want to do it again?
20.Samir
Itouched my lips and remembered his.
I closed my eyes and savored the memory of his taste. It had been so unexpected, I didn’t even remember reacting or bracing myself for it. I simply blinked and his mouth was on mine.
The moment played over and over in my head the whole night, and it was still there when I woke up the following morning; an ethereal shadow over my entire body. A shiver ran down my spine, making the hairs on the back of my neck and along my arms stand on end.
I ran my hand over my semi-hard cock, and a moan escaped me as I got harder on contact.
The feel of his wet and eager tongue in my mouth came back to the forefront of my mind, and I gasped, as if I’d suddenly ran out of air.
My stomach clenched as my cock throbbed, and I bit my lip, pushed down my pajamas, and wrapped my hand around my dick.
Another audible moan ruptured from my throat, and I closed my eyes, focusing on Cole, on the way he held my body as he kissed deeply into me, and the way he looked into my eyes when he pulled away.
I tugged at my cock, and the memory intensified, taking a different shape and form to reality as Cole pushed me against the wall and bit my lower lip, his breath caressing my skin as we stared at each other. Then, suddenly, we were kissing again, and our tongues were dancing, battling for domination. Our cocks ground together, creating a tormenting heat that could only be cooled down by breathing into each other, by moaning, by kissing.
The more intense the memory got, the harder I stroked myself. The harder I stroked myself, the rougher Cole kissed me. Reality and fantasy fed into memory, creating a tortuous loop that left me gasping for air and desperate for release.
I squeezed my eyes shut and fucked my hand harder, like I’d never done before, and imagined Cole going down on me, pushing my pants down my ankles and wrapping his perfect, pink lips around my cock.
Desire shot out of me, load after load that stained my pajama top, my sheets, my pillow, heck, even my beard. But even though I wanted to clean it up right away, I was fused into bed, wiped as if I’d worked a double shift, and trying to catch my breath as if I’d ran a marathon.
Yet even as I lay there, staring at my ceiling and trying to remember how my lungs worked, Cole was there every time I closed my eyes, watching me, smiling at me, cleaning me up and savoring my body.
It was no wonder it took me twice as long as usual to get out of bed and took all my efforts not to jerk myself off again in the shower.
When I walked downstairs, Zainab was already there, sweeping the floor. As soon as she saw me, she put the broom down and looped her hand through my arm.
“Don’t you look dashing this morning!” she said.
I grimaced and looked at her. Did she know what I’d been doing upstairs? I mean, we had been together for almost fifteen years. I was sure she’d caught me on more than one occasion, but for the most part, she’d been oblivious to my “self-loving” time as I’d been to hers. What I didn’t know was whether the years we’d been together had taught her what my post-orgasm face looked like.
“I… I do?” I asked.
She smirked.
“You sure do. What happened last night?”
I almost let out a sigh of relief, but I covered it up with a chuckle.
“What the hell do you think happened last night?”
“You tell me.” She grimaced. “You’re the one who went on a date.”
I rolled my eyes and sat down behind the counter.
“It was hardly a date. I got a call about a rescue.”
“Oh,” she said, her excited expression dropping into disappointment. “You did?”
“Didn’t you get my message to check the cupboard?” I raised an eyebrow.
Zainab glanced at her phone on the charger under the counter and shrugged.
