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- Aiden -
She was gone when I woke up.
When I realized the bed was empty, I stretched my arms out to my sides and groaned. Then I craned my ears and tried to listen for her, but once the sound of my empty apartment was confirmed, I rolled onto my back.
What a fucking incredible night. It was almost too good to be true, and I couldn’t help but smile as scenes of the previous evening replayed in my mind…
Lucy eating pink sorbet at the rooftop restaurant, the way she laughed so hard she felt like she had to cover her mouth, the feeling of sticking my hands up her dress, of watching her nipples respond to my breath.
Either I was officially back in the game or I’d just had the most vivid, magnificent wet dream of my whole life.
And either way, my heart was so swollen in my chest it was almost bursting. Sure, I always felt good the morning after bedding a beautiful woman, but there was something different about the way I felt that morning.
I was more than sprung, more than smitten. Not only had the sex been great, but I’d managed to impress a woman who I actually respected and admired, a woman so feminine and strong I felt like more of a man for having been with her.
And I fucking couldn’t wait to have her again.
And the taste of her. She was as sweet as I imagined and wetter than I ever dreamed she could be. If I hadn’t wanted her so bad, I could have ridden her for hours and every thrust would’ve been a new adventure. My only regret about the night was that I didn’t last longer.
But she was so tight. Just thinking about how she clenched around my fingers was enough to get me hard again. And the way her body shook when I made her come was incredible. It felt so good to make her feel that way, but it was doubly exciting because I’d never seen her lose control like that. And the fact that my mouth was the thing that caused it, the thing that unwound her until she came, was the greatest thrill of all.
I wondered if she could feel me- wherever she was- throbbing inside her, if the memory of me running my hands up her body was as clear for her as it was for me.
I hope she hadn’t left unhappy. After we had sex, we laid around for a while, perfectly still. There was nothing but the sound of us catching our breath and the occasional sigh. And she’d kept smiling long after it was over.
Plus, she’d asked for it. I only gave her what she wanted, and I gave it to her good. In fact, when I thought about it, I’m pretty sure I was keener to please Lucy than I’d ever been to please anyone. I’d put an incredible amount of pressure on myself to show her a good time. After all, there was no one whose opinion meant more to me.
And I felt the pressure in my head, in my heart, and in my dick, which swelled for her harder than it ever had for anyone. Or at least that’s how it felt last night.
I don’t know what it was. Maybe it was that I knew her so well, that seeing her vulnerable side was especially thrilling because I knew how few people ever saw that side of her. After all, she was always hiding behind her black boots, her dark eyeliner, and her feisty front. So getting to see her stripped bare felt like a real accomplishment.
I just wanted to feel this high forever, but there was a horrible thought niggling at me. What if she regretted it? What if I wasn’t as good as she thought I would be?
Doubtful.
At least, I knew she hadn’t faked it. The way her pussy clenched around me and soaked my dick wasn’t the kind of thing that could be faked. Then again, Lucy was a lot harder to impress than the girls I normally slept with. What if I hadn’t done it for her? What would it mean for our friendship? What would it mean for the fact that I didn’t want to be just friends anymore?
I sat on the edge of the bed and stood up, letting the sheet fall from my naked body onto the floor as I stretched my arms over my head. Then I grabbed my boxers off the floor, and as I pulled them on, something caught my eye.
I took a few steps towards the end of the bed and grabbed the small clump of black fabric with my fist. Lucy’s thong. At first I smiled because it was black, which meant that the thought of sleeping with me had crossed her mind even before the date.
But maybe I shouldn’t be so smug. Her wardrobe was ninety nine percent black anyway. Of course she preferred black underwear. Maybe it didn’t mean anything.
But that wasn’t right either.
The fact that I’d found her underwear on the floor at the end of the bed meant at least one thing, that she left in a hurry.
Whatever made her leave, she’d done it so quickly she didn’t even look for her underwear before she left, and she’d been wearing a flirty little dress, too.
Maybe she borrowed some shorts or something. Girls were always looking for excuses to steal my clothes the morning after. But all the drawers were closed. Plus, I would’ve heard her if she’d started opening things.
Maybe she didn’t make a ruckus because she wanted to let me sleep. Or maybe she was being deliberately sneaky.
I looked around to see if she’d left a note and then grabbed my phone out of my jeans pocket from the night before. She hadn’t called or texted.
She’d just disappeared.
