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His tongue invades my ear, and my skin pebbles at his touch. He nips and kisses down my neck to my shoulder. I moan and lean into him.
I say, “To not dwell on what could have been, let’s set a hard date when you might be back on my neck like this. I’m a detail gal.” I stare.
He kisses my stomach. “That makes sense, and I love a spreadsheet.”
I say, “Seriously, a pivot table gets me hot.”
He sucks my nipple, making me moan. “Odd from a creative.”
“It’s the yin/yang of me.” His hand drifts up and down my thighs. “Are you attempting to feel my yin/yang?”
He runs his hand down my arms, and I sit up. He’s up on an elbow, and his other hand is moving down my stomach.
“Hey there, mister, eyes up here.”
“Not interested in your eyes right now.” He kisses my belly button and moves closer to my bush. He licks and sucks down my body. I moan a little as he explores me. I try to grab his glorious dick. He pushes me back down gently. “No. I need to make you come on my tongue. You need to come on my face. It’s going to be my new favorite thing.”
“If I must.”
“You must. I have this overwhelming desire to hear, feel, taste, and see you. Stay there and watch me.”
“You have a control thing, don’t you?”
“Only here, you make me confident.” And he sucks me until I thrash and scream. Bucking into his face, I freeze, and heat spreads to every part of me, releasing all the delicious tension he built, as his tongue swirls my clit and fingers pump in and out of me.
“Epic noises and lovely face. The hot flush of desire.” He’s on top of me, looking at my face again. I’m catching my breath and twitching a little bit. He reaches for his phone and snaps a picture.
“Hey!”
“It’s just for me. Your face is so beautiful right now. I want to take it with me.” He shows me the picture, and it’s a blotchy red face and wild hair. I don’t like it, but I’m not the one who thinks I’m beautiful post-orgasm.
“My schedule clears a bit mid-November, then gets amps up mid-December until Christmas. What if I clear November 8th?” I throw out an awfully specific date.
“Make it the 9th. I’ll be exhausted on election day. We’re streaming election results live for the first time.”
“The 9th. We’ll talk on the 9th. We can totally do that,” I say, satisfied with this plan. I can go six weeks without him. Not sure I can go six weeks without it, though. I see lots of masturbation in my future.
“And nothing in between,” he says resolutely.
“Yes, or we’ll lose our careers. And no googling each other.” Normally I’d be knee-deep in ideas by this time of night instead of thoughts of him.
“Deal. Are we dating anyone else?” Alex brings up a good point.
“If it comes up, sure. It’s not like we should be exclusive after less than twelve hours together.” I see no reason to be monogamous with a virtual stranger. Although it might kill me if he’s with someone. Why the hell am I jealous of something that hasn’t happened with someone I’m not really dating?
“Point taken.” He looks skeptical.
“Can I listen to the podcast?” I ask, hopeful.
“It would make me self-conscious.”
“Then, I won’t.” I totally will. I just won’t tell him.
He says, “I think I can sleep now, knowing there’s a conversation in our future. We’ll talk on November 9th.” I flip over and look at his sleepy face.
“Kiss me, goodnight.”
And he does. It’s sweet and caring, like our first kiss five hours ago. It’s 3:30 a.m., and I’ve neglected to tell him I have to head to the airport in two hours.
