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“Rose, you own me!” I scream just before it turns into screams of pleasure as she brings a third orgasm out of me.
She finally lets me take a breath as she withdraws her fingers. I turn around just to watch her lick every single one of them while she stares at my swollen pussy.
“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” she smiles at me.
My whole world flips on its axis. That’s what happens when Rose smiles at me.
“Now, let the real fun begin.”
My eyes widen when I understand she means it.
“You just killed me,” I blurt out. “Give me time to get back to life.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.” She climbs on the bed and grabs a pillow. She kisses me deeply as her hand wraps around the back of my head and she slides the pillow under me. My face is slightly angled, and I wonder what she’s doing until she moves up…and up…and up. I lick my lips when her glistening pussy hovers right over my face.
I haven’t done this in so long. For a second, I’m scared I won’t know what to do or how to do it. But the intense need to bury my face into her pussy takes over. I grab her hips so quickly she almost loses balance. One hand grips my hair to stay still as well as angle my face. At the same time, I pull her to my mouth.
I don’t hesitate for one second before making out with her pussy. She’s so wet all over me that I lose track of where I’m licking. It doesn’t matter because she rises on her knees slightly so she can take control and ride my face. My lips open and close around her clit, and she rides me so hard I feel her wetness on my nose and cheeks.
When she comes, her legs tighten against my head and her broken scream resonates everywhere in my body. She falls to my side, and I wrap a hand around her throat, turning around and going on top of her. I kiss her, licking her lips until she lets me in. I cover her entire mouth with her slickness and force her to taste herself. She moans around my lips, and I swallow it, keeping it for myself like a precious gift. It’s a golden music note reserved for only the most skillful musicians.
I let myself hit the mattress, letting go of her throat. I lay on my side, keeping one hand on her, the need to touch her burning at my fingertips. I try to calm my trembling body as her pants slow down.
My hand roams along her breasts and my heart picks up at the small curves against my palms. The insanity of how much I missed her makes me lightheaded. Her eyes are closed and it makes me grin. She always falls asleep after sex. She’s so peaceful and satisfied. Her nightmares chased away long enough for her to find sleep.
That’s when it hits me. She isexactlythe same as before. The same reactions, the same wittiness about her. She fucks me like she never left. Her orgasms sound the same, her smell, her shape. The difference is drastic in me because I’m not happy. I hate my life; I hate the man who thinks of me as his. And it shows. It shows now more than ever when the woman I’ve always loved has given me the best fuck I’ve had in almost two years. And her? She gave me the exact same fuck she used to. The kind where I know I belong to her, and I know I’m one among others. Nothing feelsoffbecause Rose has been herself for the last two years. I just know it. I canfeelit.
The realization creates a hole in my stomach where all my happiness goes and hides.
There’s a long silence while I caress her arm, her throat, and go back down to her breasts. I prop myself on my left elbow while my right hand keeps exploring her. I circle her dark, golden nipples with one finger, watching her skin rise into goosebumps as I do.
“Where were you?” I whisper, like I’m too ashamed to ask the question. She’s asleep, but even if she were awake, she wouldn’t answer.
Her eyes snap open. I’m so surprised I jolt back slightly. Her hand grabs mine, and she brings both back to her breast. I squeeze her while she squeezes my hand. It’s a soft but determined hold. I read it as a sign to keep going with my instigation.
“Where were you?” I repeat.
Maybe she didn’t mean for me to insist. It’s a risky move. I know Rose, she hates sharing things that might make her appear weak, things that might make it all seem a bit too real. When she’s with me, she likes using me as an escape from reality. If I remind her of the outside world, of the real problems, she shuts off.
I’m about to apologize for asking, for being nosy, when she surprises me with something I can already tell is the truth.
“I’m not sure,” she tells me. That’s all I need.
I sit up so quickly she jumps in surprise. “Do you…” I hesitate. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she chuckles, as if I was a silly girl getting worked up over nothing.
“Can I ask questions?” It might sound like an insane thing to say out loud. But Rose always had one rule, no questions about her or her past. If she wanted to share something, she would. Like the fact that the door should never be closed if she’s left alone in a room. As soon as I noticed, she confirmed it to me. She never said why, though.
She shrugs and stretches. “Sure.”
This is all I’ve ever wanted. Since I’ve known Rose, all I’ve wished for is answers to all my questions. Only now that she’s here, naked with me in bed, ready to open herself up to me, I’m not sure what to ask anymore.
“Are you…” It’s hard to swallow, I’m just too scared of the answer to the question I’m about to ask. “Okay?”
Time stops when her eyes lock with mine.
Ignorance is bliss. Did you know?
