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Maybe we're in this together, maybe it's just supposed to be whatever we want it to be, but if that's true, then I want to make her come again before I do. I need to. I am sure it's some bullshit macho programming or something, but two for her, for every one of mine sounds about right. At least at first. Then three for her sounds better.
I didn't realize sex would be so noisy. The slapping of my hips against the skin of her thighs makes a sound I would otherwise find hilarious. I'm not laughing, though. It feels too good. Her wetness makes a strange sound too...again, not laughing. She's the best thing I've ever felt in my life and I know for a fact laughing right now would be bad. But it is kinda funny.
She throws her head back, knocking it into the upper cupboard. Her moans are coming one after the other. Her hands drop to the edge of the counter and grip. I feel like I need more. More of her. More access.
I hook my arms under her knees and pull her legs up until she's spread open and I have more room to move. Her arms fly to my shoulders with a squeak and she looks panicky for a minute, so I bring her legs in a little closer, until she looks like she's enjoying it again.
My brain goes offline right around the time her channels starts gripping me rhythmically. I'm about to compliment her on her muscle control when I realize she's coming. I didn't know it would feel like that from the inside.
It's too much. I'm a goner.
I guess the noises I make are funny too. I definitely haven't made those particular sounds, and certainly never at that particular pitch. I peek at Janey, but she doesn't seem to mind the sounds at all. She's looking dazed, and exhausted, but there's a little smile playing on her lips. I did that. I made her look that way. She looks how I feel. Worn out. Happy. Euphoric. Ready to do it again.
Maybe that last one is just me.
I pull her closer to me, wrapping her up in my arms and burying my nose in her hair. This woman is mine, in all ways. And for the first time in my life, I feel completely owned. It's a powerful, slightly scary feeling. One that I want for the rest of my life.
My cock seems to like that idea. It twitches, and Janey gasps. Her legs tighten around my hips.
We both hear it at the same time. The elevator doors opening and faint music. Janey's eyes widen in panic, and she wiggles on the counter. I grip the base of my cock, and the condom, and pull out with a groan.
"Hurry," she whispers, spinning in a panicked circle. I freeze and just watch her, loving the way her body moves. The jiggle of her ass is particularly mesmerizing. "Jonas!" she whisper yells.
"Right, sorry," I mutter, quickly tying off the condom — also something I've practiced — and dropping it into the garbage. It's just sitting there, on top of the napkins and remnants of people’s meals, completely out of place. I grab the orange peels, granola bar wrapper, and about twenty paper towels and pile it on top of the condom. Much better. That doesn’t look suspicious at all.
My shirt hits me in the chest, then my pants. Got it. Get dressed. I hurry into my clothes, carefully ignoring the fact that my underwear was just on the floor. I'm not going to think about that. Nope. Not going to.
Janey's stopped spinning, but in her panic, she somehow manages to get herself caught in her shirt. Her head and arm are both sticking out of the same hole, and the entire shirt is on backward. I turn her so I'm blocking the still-open door, and carefully help her untangle herself, then drop to my knees and pull her pants up her legs. I tuck her panties into my pocket, because they were on the floor, and no way is she wearing them. She smooths down her shirt and looks at me with wide eyes.
"How do I look?" she asks, patting her hair.
I study her, from her still bare feet to her wild hair, and give her the truth with a big smile. "Like you just got fucked."
She scowls and crosses her arms. "You're no better. Your hair is sticking straight up. You look like you got electrocuted."
I tap the top of my head, and yep, she's right. I laugh, because this is a night of so many firsts, and I'm not mad about any of them. I don't care if the Janitor knows we just had sex in here. I own this place, I can do whatever I want here.
Janey obviously doesn't feel the same way as she crouches low, and peeks out of the door. She turns back to me with a glare and mouths something. I'm not sure what, but it definitely looks like a threat.
I'm a smart man. Everyone says so. I'm certainly smart enough to clamp my mouth shut, and follow my wife, in a crouch, down the hall. And when she drops into an army crawl ten feet from my office, I do what any good husband would do and army crawl right behind her.
She never needs to know I popped up to wave at the elderly janitor. And she really never needs to know that he spotted her, winked at me, and gave me a thumbs up.
36
JANEY
"Where are you going?"
Jonas freezes halfway out the apartment door. I tug his t-shirt down my thighs as he turns to look at me. I have never seen a guiltier look in my life. My stomach drops. Last night was so amazing. I have never felt that connected to someone in my life. I thought he felt the same. When we got back here, we were all over each other. And now, he's sneaking out of his own house at seven in the morning.
"Janey," he says, grimacing. He raises his hand to his face, and nearly stabs himself in the eye with a car key clutched in his hand.
"Are you leaving? Did...is something wrong?" I won't go back to assuming I'm the problem, but I have to physically bite the words did I do something back.
His face falls, and he moves straight to me, wrapping me up in a hug. He does it so instinctively, so easily. It soothes me and reassures me that everything is okay. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "But I have to get down there before she does."
He pulls back and studies me, lingering on my bare legs. He groans and takes a big step back. "I'm going down to the garage. I'll be back in a few minutes, I promise. Don't you dare get dressed while I'm gone."
