Page 40 of Stage Dive: Short Stories & Novellas
“Let me help.”He lifted me off the bench so carefully, wrapping my legs around him seemed only polite.“Is the wall all right with you?The bench is the wrong height and the flooring’s a bit rough in here.Wouldn’t want you to get carpet burn on your soft skin.”
“The wall is fine.”
“Excellent.”
With my spine pressed to the cool flat surface, he reached between us, positioning the broad, blunt head of his cock at my entrance.There was less wriggling this time on account of me being so wet.In he pushed, slowly lowering me onto him.God, the feeling of fullness, the stretch of him inside me.Twenty-four hours was far too long to go without.I pressed my lips against his, kissing him deep and hungry.No need for messing around.No worrying about if he wanted me plastered all sweaty against his skin.
Sam knew me and wanted me.How much was honestly a little scary.
Hips flexing, he fucked himself into me time and again.Each measured perfect thrust stealing my breath and blowing my mind.His fingers tightened on my ass, digging in to hold me in place.The man steadily nailed me to the damn wall.Only he kept subtly, slightly shifting his position, searching for something.I didn’t realize what until he hit something inside my pussy that made my whole body clench.
“There we go,” he said.
“Christ.That’s why they call them drill sergeants, huh?”
“Don’t be silly.”He grinned.“That’s the army, love.I’m navy.”
Then he set about fucking me into oblivion.Over and over, he hit that one perfect place, sending me higher with each stroke.I clung to him, struggling for breath, body and heart turned inside out.As for my mind, it was total mush.Faster and harder, he fucked me against the wall, hammering my g-spot.Not stopping until I came again, shouting out a name.Someone’s name.Let’s not get into it.It didn’t matter.His hips ground against me, burying his dick deep as he came with a grunt.Yes.For all his honeyed words and carrying on, he’d come grunting at me.Pure romance.
This was why people shouldn’t get carried away with emotions etcetera.Even if the sex happened to be insanely good.Hormones can make you do stupid things like yelling out names of people you should probably only be friends with.Like, fuck buddies at best.Because once you start getting carried away, things get complicated.When you’re all wound up and feeling a million things including horribly exposed.
“You shouted my name,” he said almost wonderingly.The idiot.
“Should I have shouted someone else’s?”And while my lungs and heart might have been scrambling to catch up, my body was rigid, unyielding.“Put me down.”
Prudently, yet tenderly, he did so.“Martha, what are you thinking about?”
“Why do you always ask me that after sex?”I snapped, gathering up my clothing.“It’s unnecessary.The whole point of sex is not to think.”
For a moment, there was silence.
“What?”I snapped again.
“Is this about you saying my name?”
“No.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“So it’s about intimacy in general, then?”
I cringed.“Seriously?”
God knows where my panties had gone.Doubtless the completely wrong person would find them tomorrow and I’d be in for another round of humiliation.I pulled on the shorts then got busy collecting the shoes and socks.I could walk back to my room barefoot.It wasn’t like it’d matter.
Meanwhile, he just stood there bare-ass naked, arms crossed, watching me.
“What?”I asked, getting down on my hands and knees to try and find the fucking underwear.Shit.They’d disappeared.And he’d been totally right about the rough flooring.My back or hands and knees would have been shredded.Of course his being right and caring about me only made things worse.“Are you going to get dressed?And why are you giving me that look?”
“What look am I giving you exactly?”
“Blank face, but pissed-off eyes.It’s the one you use when you’re angry, but pretending as if you’re trying to hide it.”
“Well, Martha,” he said, pausing to pick up his shorts and pull them on, “I was giving you that particular look because we just had great sex, and before I can even catch my breath, you’re suddenly being a raging bitch.What I’m wondering is, why?”
“Why you’re bothering with me or why I’m being a bitch?”I asked, rising back to my feet.“Because I have a well-known reputation for being a bitch so I don’t see that stopping anytime soon.As for the other, there’s a very simple answer.We can just stop.We’ve had a few good fucks.Might as well end it while we’re ahead, right?”
