“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’m realizing that.”
But I could tell he was still afraid.
That night, when we went up to bed, we made love, slow and passionate, for the first time since he shared his dark secret with me. And I could feel that he was holding back. Not just physically. I could feel his inner turmoil, his struggle, his pain. I could feel him…feeling.
And I wondered, what would that be like—burying your feelings so deep, for so long, that you could barely identify what they were… and then experiencing them starting to surge up to the surface, outside of your control, pulsing through your body and soul?
I knew how to feel.
What would it be like to not feel at all, then to learn how to feel again?
I wanted to make him feelbetter; to make every feeling he had when we were together a good one. No, not just good. Incredible.
But that wasn’t really in my power. I couldn’t control someone else’s feelings.
I wanted him to feel better now that he’d shared his traumatic experience with me.
But I really wasn’t sure that he did.
ChapterThirty-Six
Johnny
Iwoke from the nightmare, struggling to breathe.
The light of near dawn was creeping over me, and I realized I hadn’t closed the blinds all the way last night. The air felt filmy, murky, like it did on an overcast day.
I caught my breath.
I found Angeline lying next to me, the sheet wrapped around her waist. And I remembered the intense sex we’d had, late into the night. Her tits peeked out below her cropped top, which had ridden up, and my dick started to harden.
I eased toward her and carefully slid the shirt up a little more, fully exposing the soft swells of her breasts and her perfect pink nipples. They were soft in sleep, but when I wrapped my lips around one and sucked gently, the pink bud hardened and Angeline started to stir.
She slithered on the mattress a bit, arching her back and stretching, and I sucked a little harder. Wet, slow, luxurious sucks that quickly had her panting.
I moved down and slipped her panties off as her eyes drifted open, blinking at me. “Don’t move,” I told her.
She smiled a little.
I slid my hands under her thighs and gripped, tugging her toward me, straightening out her hips. When I let go, her thighs relaxed open a bit, presenting her clit to me perfectly.
I breathed hotly on her clit, making her squirm. “Don’t move an inch. Even when you come.”
She sighed. “Okay, Johnny.”
“If you move, then I can’t make you come. Then you’ll have to go about your day knowing you could’ve started the day coming on my face, and instead, you were naughty and got nothing.”
She giggled softly. “That’s okay. Then I’ll just wait until you go to your meeting, and then I’ll put on one of your shirts and lay in your bed playing with my pussy and I’ll make myself come. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll take a picture of it and send it to you.”
Damn. Girl was impossible to top.
Even when I was topping her.
I stirred, my hard dick digging into the bed.
“Then I’m afraid I’m gonna have to come home and tie you down, naked, with your legs spread, and jerk off on you.” Her eyes glazed over as, hopefully, she pictured that scene. My dick throbbed against the bed. I wasn’t sure who I was torturing more. “And I won’t make you come, no matter how much you beg me.”
“Bullshit. You love it when I beg.”
