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It began getting warm under the covers with the blood flowing through both of our bodies. I turned her onto her back and kissed her neck while running my fingers down her side. Her eyes were closed, and she had a smile so big that her face could barely contain it. Sloane struck me as a happy person in general, who brought sunshine into a room. And, during this rainstorm, she was at her absolute sunniest.
While I explored her body, her hands ran over my arms, tracing my biceps with fascination. I had a daily routine of pushups every morning when I woke up, and I’d seen the results in the mirror, but this was the first time someone else could appreciate them. She didn’t need to use words to say she was very happy with how my regime was going.
A whisper from my conscience popped into my head: You could lose your job for this.
It wasn’t wrong, but I also didn’t care. What could my job get me? A steady paycheck? A roof over my head? And for what?
This was what mattered in life: genuine connection with others. The opportunity to share a moment with someone else that will last forever in memory. For so many years, I’d played by the rules and done what I was supposed to do. I deserved the chance to break one or two of them every now and then. Especially for something like this, where it wasn’t hurting anyone.
I moved my mouth onto her shoulder, tasting her delicate skin, then let my face wander to her beautiful breasts with their erect nipples that begged me to suck on them. As I did so, Sloane grabbed my head and ran her fingers through my hair, continuing to let out sounds that put the most beautiful arias to shame. I could listen to these auditory emissions of pleasure all night and, so long as she kept making them, I’d keep doing whatever it was I was doing to get them out of her.
As I ran my tongue over her breasts, taking care to be just the right amount of gentle, I allowed my hand to make its way between her legs and find her clit, where it made slow circular motions.
“Oh, Wesley,” she said. The words came out of her mouth like liquid gold, as if made by a natural process with no forced intention behind them. I loved the sound of my name from her lips.
I added just a little more pressure, increasing the speed of my finger on her and her body quivered, just as it had before, though I knew this time she wasn’t the least bit cold. We were both beginning to sweat underneath the covers.
While continuing the motion on her clit, I grazed her labia with another finger and, when I felt how wet she was, gingerly penetrated her. Her eyes opened up as she said, “Oh my God, that feels incredible.”
It had been more than a while since I’d last been intimate with a woman, but my body hadn’t forgotten what to do. And I was so in tune with Sloane that I could tell what she wanted just by the subtle — and sometimes not so subtle — signals she sent my way. Her face began to slightly redden as her eyes opened wider, her mouth open as her breathing intensified, and she grabbed onto my arm. Her whole body tightened as she strengthened her grip and let out a scream of unadulterated pleasure at a volume I didn’t imagine she was capable, filling the house with her orgasmic release.
As her climax concluded, she took me in her arms and kissed me hard and passionately.
“I need you inside me,” she said.
I considered offering up a preemptive excuse. It had been so long since I’d last had sex that I worried about my stamina. And I couldn’t remember ever having been this turned on. I feared that I’d barely make it inside her before I came.
As before, however, a woman like Sloane begging me to be inside of her was not an opportunity I would pass up. She wanted me and I needed her — I wasn’t going to let fear get in the way of my strongest desires.
I kissed her again and grabbed her hips, easing my way into her and feeling the heat of her on me. It was the best I’d ever felt in my life. As I brought up my tempo and fell into our natural groove, I came to realize that this wasn’t just the best sex I’d ever had — it was better than any sex I could have imagined. I didn’t know my body was capable of providing me with such joy. No amount of drugs or fantasy could have created the feelings I was experiencing as our two bodies joined together in their intimate dance.
I didn’t want it to end. And, as I felt myself nearing my orgasm, I began to slow so I could last longer. Sloane shook her head.
“Keep going,” she said with desperation, begging me not to stop.
She leaned her body into mine and adjusted her hips, matching each of my thrusts with her pelvic moves. I bit my tongue and focused as hard as I could, holding on for dear life and doing whatever I could to keep myself from coming. But the second I saw that glint in her eyes — the beginning of her second orgasm — nothing could have held me back.
I came so hard that I nearly passed out and, all the while, she was screaming with the kind of joyous pleasure that made the previous orgasm look like a mere tremor in comparison. As she did, I kissed her lower lip — which felt cold to the touch — and she dug her nails into my back, pulling me deeper inside of her.
I forced my body to keep going, to keep pushing and pushing, and I felt a scream of my own come out without me intending it to.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Sloane was shouting as I slammed into her as hard as I could. She couldn’t get enough of it, so I pushed myself even harder.
The bed collapsed under us, the sound of the cracking wood feeling as though it was miles away. I kept on going — so long as she was expressing her pleasure, I would keep on going.
And so, I did, until eventually her moans stopped, and she took in a deep breath.
It was all over.
I rolled off of her and onto my side, assuming the big spoon position, and held her body close to mine. The emotional intensity was so strong, I felt like I could almost cry.
“That was… something else,” she said.
“There are no words,” I told her. There really weren’t. I was a changed man. I knew it. There was no way for me to continue going through life as I had been after this experience. The old me — the me from even just an hour or so ago — seemed so foreign and unrecognizable to me that I wasn’t sure that he was even real.
“Did we break the fucking bed?” Sloane asked.
I laughed. A genuine belly laugh. “Yes,” I said. “We broke the bed fucking.”
