Page 24 of Midlife Crisis

“You first,” he says, trailing tickling fingertips down my skin.

“I want to feel you.” The boldness surprises me, but I want to touch him while he pleases me.

“Oh, you’re gonna feel me.” He stands, strips, and returns to his side next to me. Deft fingers find their way and gently impale me. I arch off the bed, relishing the intrusion.

“So wet, baby. Your body wants me.”

“So badly,” I whimper.

“Soon, lady.” He chuckles against my neck, sucking at my skin while his fingers work their magic—dipping, digging, dragging out an orgasm so fierce I drown in the length of it. Awash in sensation, my knees come together, drifting in a weightless haze. I’m gripping the sheets as Hank climbs over me.

“Condoms?” His asking almost brings another snort. Another unnecessary supply when not engaging in sexual promiscuity. I shake my head and he slips back for his pants on the floor and returns fully sheathed.

Lining up his solid length at my entrance, he watches as he slowly disappears inside me, taking his time to fill me as I stretch around him, welcoming him into me. Tears escape the corners of my eyes. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt anything like this. So full. So free. Hank pulls back, almost exiting me before thrusting forward again. My eyes roll back and more tears leak.

“You okay, baby?” I can’t respond, so I nod. He pauses, peering down at me as he balances most of his weight on his strong elbows. A thumb swipes at the corner of one eye.

“You must think I’m so inexperienced.” Now isn’t the time to share our sexual history, but it’s evident by the dance his body plays over mine that he knows more than I do.

“Not going there right now,” he commands. “I think you weren’t loved properly, and I’m gonna love this body.” He rests on one elbow as his other hand hooks under my leg, stretching me, opening me to him.

“Let go of the bed sheets, little lady,” he demands. “Touch me.” I’m still white knuckling the sheets at my sides as he slides forward again, the penetration reaching deep.

“I’m afraid to let go. I might float away.” I’m not certain all the words leave my mouth as I’m having an out-of-body experience, like I’m watching him fill me. The euphoric feeling makes me light-headed. He chuckles, jostling us both, his dick pulsing inside me.

“Hold on to me, baby. I’ll keep you grounded.”

I release the bedclothes and clap a hand to his shoulder blade. The other finds his ass, one firm globe of perfection, and I squeeze.

“Yeah, baby,” he spurs, rocking harder as I smooth over the fineness of his backside. The bed begins to squeak as he thrusts faster, penetrating deeper, teasing another orgasm out of me. As my head comes off the bed, I scream into his shoulder, tears spilling, as I hold him like I might fall off a cliff if I let go.

“Fuck, yeah, little lady,” he quips through strained breaths as he rocks harder. His pumps quickening before he stills. His neck muscles bulge as he pulses inside me, and his strain pleases me. An aftershock sends ripples vibrating through my body. Hank collapses, rolling us to our sides but still buried inside me.

“My sausage do okay in your hallway?” he jests. “Got the reference now. We’re the Millers.” He winks. I gasp before I chuckle.

“Did you just make a joke?” My giggling jiggles him inside me, and he pulses once again.

“I just want you to stop crying,” he whispers. He’s so close to my face, still hovering inside me.

“I’m not sad. I’m not hurt,” I reassure him. “Just...I can’t describe it. I’m overwhelmed fits the best.”

“No, I fit the best,” he teases, pressing up to kiss my shoulder before pulling out completely. Wet warmth pools between my thighs like the heat in my heart as I look at him.

Yes, you do, I think. You fit the best.

11

Night sweats

[Hank]

We go at it again after a brief reprieve. This woman needs some taking care of. Rest. Repeat. Finally, we only rest, tangling with one another. I’m a sound sleeper especially on my back as she sprawls over me. I want to tuck her into a ball and hold her to my chest, but I also like the feel of her blanketing me, draped over my heart beat.

Suddenly, she stirs, shaking me.

“Hank, someone’s here.” When I come to full consciousness, it takes me a second to remember where I am and how we got here. I warn my brain not to think of Kit, but it can’t stop itself. Kit and I never had sex at her place. All her secrets were hidden there, and she never planned to share them with me just as she never shared her heart.

“Hank, I think someone’s here,” she repeats.