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He brushes his lips against my neck, giving me goosebumps again. In a new burst of passion, he stretches his body towards me, bending over me, completely exposed, so enjoying his touch, letting all my inhibitions loose and defiantly pulling his amazing hair back, lifting up towards him as we share a heated kiss, as he ceaselessly caresses all of me and looks at me in total admiration. He’s losing himself before me, appearing defenseless, and I feel our two souls twining together in a spark of marvelous, stimulating and revivifying connection. I confidently sit upon him, having removed any trace of clothes or boundaries. I breathe in his skin, loosely kissing the dip between his neck and earlobe, driving him wild. I lean over him, touching his entire body with rampant lust. With slow, deep, synchronized motions I move my thighs up and down in tandem, painfully pleasurable. I drive him, and us, into a frenzy, letting out absolutely shameless grunts into the space of the room.
“I’m going to empty myself inside you,” he notes with absolute seriousness.
“Don’t even think of pulling out!” I hiss at him, shifting gears, becoming more and more demanding. My entire void is filled with his manhood, so perfectly suited to the task. He grunts and breathes heavily, strongly pulling me back and forth, doing with me as he pleases, like I’m not there, hurting me at the exact margin between pleasure and pain, and loudly releases himself into me.
“Wow,” he disentangles from me after long minutes of mutual panting, and tries to regulate his breathing.
I slowly get off him, wiping away the remaining fluids we both released, and softly lie down on the bed with my back to him. I relax a bit and my mind is giddy, recounting all that I’d done and my absolutely wanton lust.
“Sam,” he interrupts my wayward thoughts. “I think I’m completely in love with you.”
What? What does he mean? My eyes are rolling up in exhaustion. I’m again gripped by uncontrollable fatigue.
He places one hand on my shoulder and the other on the side of my ass, lying on his side, spooning me as we both collapse into sweet, confused sleep.
“Avi?” A male voice rings out in the room. “Are you here?” The door opens and I immediately leap up, trying and failing to cover myself.
He stretches, drowsy, and pulls me back to him.
“Come back here. Where’re you going?”
“There’s someone in the room!” I mutter at him.
He lifts his gaze and returns it to me.
“It’s just Tony, honey, relax, no pressure.” He pulls me back to him. “Get out of here, now!” he raises his voice at him.
Tony immediately leaves and shuts the door behind him.
“Why so stressed, gorgeous?” His indifference and coolness are driving me nuts. He stretches over me and envelops my naked body.
“Are you crazy?” I shout at him. “He saw me naked, he’s seen us together, what the hell did we do? Imagine if he blurts out something to Michael. It’s all just a game to you, isn’t it?”
I get up at once and demonstratively march to the shower, running the comforting water and wanting the sound of the stream to drown out the noise raging within me. I pour a generous amount of liquid, scented soap into my palm and massage every part of my body, letting my hair and body be washed away by the pampering water.
With no preparation, he surprises me and walks in, completely naked. He stands behind me, caressing my body as it’s now covered in soapy foam and water. He washes himself, too, and we both silently give in to the flow of the water for long, rejuvenating moments.
Then he shuts off the water and wrings my hair dry.
“I think you’re clean enough, aren’t you?” he deviously whispers to me. I’m just paralyzed by his mesmerizing eyes and his meaty lips flashing over the drops of water on my eyelids.
“You think?” I hiss.
He opens the shower door, guides me out with one hand and reaches out to me with the other, letting me emerge like a really spoiled princess. I pull out a bright, scented towel big enough to wrap my whole soaked body and he stands behind me, naked and dripping water.
He starts rubbing his body behind my towel-clad back, pulling me to him, pressing in and drying himself. He’s pleased with himself. Like a child, I smile inwardly. My legs respond at once. I melt before him like jelly, feeling my strength abandon me. Passion erupts directly from my navel and I let out a restrained moan. He’s so attentive to my body and immediately identifies my pain centers, embracing and caressing with both hands enveloping my belly, accompanying me back to the room.
He opens his wardrobe and asks, “what do you want to wear?”
“I don’t know,” I answer, ashamed. “What time is it anyway? Do I have anything to do today?”
“Are you confused?’
“Very,” I admit. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me in the past few days. I’ve lost all judgment and equilibrium.”
“Why not give that confusion of yours a rest and enjoy the here and now?”
“Because I can’t afford to do that! Do you understand?” My voice becomes aggressive. Wrapped in a towel, I angrily turn to and fro, and for the first time I honestly unload all my deliberations and stress onto him.
