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He gave me the same look my kids used to give me when they got whatever expensive toy they wanted for Christmas: pure joy.

I slid off of him and grabbed his hand, pulling him behind me without a word. He followed me down the hallway to my room, his eyes sweeping around the large, comfortable space. My bedroom was my sanctuary, and I’d decorated it in soft colors, comfortable furniture, and lots and lots of pillows. For some reason, my ex had hated decorative pillows, so one of the first things I’d done after we split up was buy a crap ton of pillows. If Nathan was fazed by it, he didn’t let on.

Instead, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me until I was breathless. As if by unspoken agreement, when we pulled apart we both got to work removing our clothes.

Nathan was wearing a University of Denver sweatshirt he’d gotten from the bin with my son’s clothes, and he pulled it over his head, the tee shirt beneath it soon following. Meanwhile I pulled off my sweater and unsnapped my bra, releasing my breasts for Nathan’s perusal.

He stepped forward to test their weight, lifting the tissue slightly before circling his thumbs around the tips. Soon my nipples were fully at attention and my panties were damp.

“Nathan.” His eyes remained on my tits.

“Yeah.”

“Take off your pants.”

He unzipped the jeans he was wearing, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. There was nothing underneath.

“You were commando all day?” I asked in shock. He definitely didn’t seem like the type.

“No clean underwear, remember?”

I was about to suggest that he was more than welcome to use the washing machine, but I stopped myself as I got an eyeful of his cock. It was beautiful, thick and long and completely erect. I mean, why was I going to encourage him to cover that baby up?

I hurried to slide off my tights and panties, then moved to the bed. I pulled down the comforter and slid in.

“Are you coming?” I asked.

“God, I hope so.”

Holy crap, did Nathan Holly just make a joke?

Nathan stalked over to the bed, then crawled up to the center of the mattress. I laid down on my back and he shifted over me, slowly lowering himself to kiss me for a few moments before kissing and licking his way down my body with excruciating slowness. I thought he’d focus on my breasts for a while given his reaction before, but he only gave them rudimentary attention before he made his way lower, shoving his shoulders between my legs.

I bent my knees and opened them up to the side, revealing my center to him, and he hummed in appreciation. “You’re so beautiful.”

Then I lost all coherent thought as Nathan began to lick my pussy, his rough tongue exploring my folds. He started licking and nibbling along the outer lips before sliding in between, lapping up my essence like a man eating his last meal.

I grabbed his hair, pulling him up to where I needed him.

“Greedy, huh?” he teased before he started tapping the tip of his tongue against my clit. It was swollen and throbbing.

One long finger slid into my channel, pumping in and out as he continued to tease my clit. My husband hadn’t been a big fan of oral, at least not as a giver. He’d love to receive it, of course. But eating me out was generally something he grudgingly doled out on special occasions like birthdays and Mother’s Day. But Nathan seemed to have no such qualms. He was all in, completely focused on my satisfaction. It didn’t take long before I was crying out against his face, one hand gripping his hair, the other grasping the sheet beneath me as I rode the waves of pleasure.

When he raised his head, his face was damp with my juices, and he looked very satisfied with himself. I crooked my finger, and he crawled up my body, hovering a few inches above me in a push-up position.

“I hope to God you have a condom,” he growled in a voice that made me shiver. “I didn’t bring any. I certainly wasn’t expecting this to happen when I came up here to do a site inspection.”

Nathan

Liz’s face fell, then brightened again. “Hold on.”

She shoved against my chest, and I rolled over, watching the flex of her perfect ass as she walked over to the closet. She rooted around for a while before returning with what looked like a shoebox that was decorated with balloon wrapping paper with “congratulations” spelled out in bright letters across the lid.

“What is that?” I asked curiously.

“It’s the Happy Divorce Day box my friend Renee sent me when the paperwork was finalized earlier this year.”

“Your friend sent you a divorce present?” I confirmed.