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I’m pulled from a deep sleep and reach for Abby, but find only cold sheets. My mind clears instantly with realization that she’s not in bed with me anymore. After getting busy a second time, we both passed out, exhausted and very well sexed. But now? She’s not here, and for fear of sounding like a girl, it kinda bothers me.
But then I hear the music.
And not just any music, but a guitar.
Getting up, I grab my boxer briefs and slide them on before heading out to find the green eyed, brunette who’s the source of the music. I already know where she is, so it only takes me a moment to walk across the hall and find her in my guest room. The sight of her sitting on the twin-sized bed, wearing my black t-shirt causes all of my blood to rush to one concentrated place.
I stand in the doorway, watching her strum my favorite instrument. The song she’s playing takes shape, one that I’ve heard a thousand times before on the radio, but never heard her play.
I taught her to play a few years ago after she returned from college. Abby was a natural, picking it up easily. She’s actually very musically inclined. She can play guitar, but can also sing. Her voice is angelic as she starts at the refrain and sings, even if she won’t share it with the world because she’s too shy.
I’m so lost in thought, the sweet words to the Enrique Iglesias song running through my mind, that I don’t realize right away that she stopped. When I glance up, her eyes are locked on mine. I can’t help but smile.
“Did I wake you?” she asks turning and resting the guitar on her leg.
“Nope. Whatcha doing?” I ask, joining her on the bed. Situating myself so that she’s between my legs, I reach around and reposition the guitar on her lap.
“I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d play for a few moments. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course it is,” I tell her, leaning down and placing a kiss on her bare neck. “You can play my stuff anytime you want; you know that.”
Reaching around her, I strum the guitar, starting the opening rift to my favorite song. It’s the first song I learned how to play. Well, besides Row, Row, Row Your Boat, but I don’t tell anyone that shit.
We sit in silence for a few lines of the song, neither of us moving. Well, she can’t exactly move considering she’s holding my guitar and my arms are wrapped around her while I play.
“This song reminds me of that dating app.” She whispers the words so softly that I’m not sure she intended to say them out loud. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Oh?” I hedge, continuing to play, but very softly.
Turning her head, green eyes clash with mine. I can tell right away, she’s torn between telling me about SimpleMan and not. Abby clears her throat before continuing. “Yeah, there’s a guy that I met on there. His name is SimpleMan. Says it’s his favorite song.”
“You’re telling me about talking to another man? While sitting naked under my shirt? Should I be jealous?” I quip with a slight smile so she knows I’m just teasing.
“No, it’s not like that. We’ve just talked.”
“Talked, huh?”
“Yeah, talked. He’s kinda like…well, he’s like you. He’s a friend.”
This would be the perfect lead-in to telling her that I am SimpleMan, but my mouth doesn’t move. At least, it doesn’t move in the way it should. Leaning forward and nuzzling her hair with my nose, I rest my lips against her bare skin. Calmness settles within me, my heart slowing down to a natural beat.
“Hopefully not completely like me,” I say before trailing open-mouthed kisses down the side of her neck, to her shoulder blade that’s peeking out from my shirt. Her gasp is the only words I need.
No, I don’t confess the things I should, but I will. I’ll tell Abby that I’m SimpleMan, along with my reasons why, but I can’t do it when she’s distracting me with my favorite instrument and her nakedness. We’ve played together before, but never this intimately. Never have my arms been wrapped around her so tightly, her tits, though covered with my shirt, pressed against my Gibson. Never has my cock been so freely able to press into her ass, ready to go another round or two.
“Seeing you play my Gibson while wearing my shirt is sexy as fuck.”
“Yeah?” she pants, gripping the guitar with white knuckles.
“Hell yeah,” I tell her, pulling the shirt down to bare more of that smooth, creamy flesh. “The only thing that would make this better is if the shirt would suddenly evaporate into thin air.” My tongue trails a line from her shoulder blade to the bumps of her spine.
Sensing where I’m going with this, Abby gently lifts the instrument off her lap, careful with her hair so the strap doesn’t get caught. When it’s safely set aside, I crawl around her, pushing the shirt up and over her head as I lay her back on the bed. She’s gloriously naked again, my new favorite way to see her.
“Mmmm,” I mumble as I nudge her legs apart with my own and get nice and close to the Promised Land. My dick is weeping tears of joy as it thumps heavily down on her lower stomach.
“I don’t have a condom with me,” I tell her, chastising myself for not being prepared. I was a fucking boy scout, dammit. We’re always prepared.
“It’s okay. You don’t need one. I…I trust you,” she confesses, her sweet words striking my soul with the weight of a thousand elephants.
“I trust you too,” I reassure her. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I hadn’t been with anyone in a year. We get tested every year at the hospital for work. I’m clean.”
“Me too. It’s been…a while for me.”
I cover her body with my own, reveling in the feel of her soft skin completely against mine. I know in this moment that things have changed. I’ll never look at her without seeing the look of pure lust in her eyes. I’ll never be able to hear her voice without recalling what it was like to hear her say my name as she came on my cock. I’ll never again feel as alive as I do when she’s in my arms.
My Abby.
