The softness of the feelings I have right now for Alex demand that I continue the slow pace I've set while on top of him. We have always been "balls to the wall" when we've had sex-Alex's characterization, not mine. We get so consumed with lust and sensation that we are always striving to go harder, faster, longer. Our movements are always frenzied and the talk filthy. It's exciting but even more, it's intensely intimate.
But right now, I want to see if we are still as combustible at a different speed.
Scraping my nails along the skin of his stomach, I ride Alex with long pulls against his cock, and every time I sink back down onto him, he gives me a groan of approval. His fingertips slightly dig into my skin but he doesn't try to hurry me again. He capitulates, even closing his eyes so he can privately savor the sensations I'm providing.
I watch him carefully. I notice the pace of his breathing, the flex of his muscles, the sounds coming from those beautiful lips of his. It's all a wonder to me … to have this time to savor the beauty of Alex. To be the one solely responsible for the orgasm that I'm going to give him.
The thought of bringing him to a slow completion turns me on greatly. I'm searching for release myself and I can tell Alex is getting closer by the way his muscles have stiffened along his jaw and neckline and the rawness of his breathing.
Tingles spark low in my belly as my own climax starts to break free, and I have to make myself keep the pace slow. My own nature wants to propel me faster, because Alex and I are best when we are wildly out of control.
Yet this pace feels right too, and I want to prove that it will feel just as good when we come slowly … silently.
"Baby," I whisper and Alex opens his eyes. They are dark, clouded with quiet passion and they take a moment to focus. "I want you to come hard for me."
He groans at my request and his eyes squeeze shut again. He gives me no warning as his hands reach under my ass and he pushes me upward so suddenly that I have to grasp onto his biceps to steady myself. Then he pulls me down hard-so hard that he hits something deeper than I've ever felt before and I let out a curse of pleasure.
Then Alex just holds me in place and flexes his hips upward, holding his breath as he starts to come. Watching the extreme release of pleasure on his face is my undoing and my orgasm breaks free. Throwing my head back, my heart is filled with immense tenderness over this experience. I swallow the cry that wants to release because I don't want to drown out the other quiet sensations we are experiencing together right now.
A low moan from Alex starts to work loose and my breath releases in an explosive gasp, both of our bodies shuddering so very quietly in relief.
I don't collapse forward onto Alex even though my body is thoroughly exhausted. Instead, I stay sitting up ramrod straight, his cock still hard inside of me, and I watch him.
His chest rises up and down in short bursts and his pulse is hammering at the base of his throat. His eyes open slowly and he stares at me, almost blankly, for a moment. Then my heart drops a little when I see a touch of fear glaze over him. He shares it with me for just a second, so briefly that perhaps I imagined it, but then his hands grip my hips and he lifts me off of him, rolling me to the side so that I'm lying on the mattress. He rolls right over the top of me and I think it's a move so he can settle back in between my legs to kiss me, but he keeps on rolling, right off the bed.
"I need to use the bathroom," he mutters and doesn't look back at me as he steps out of my bedroom and into the hallway.
It's contagious … fear.
It takes root in my heart and then zips outward through my veins and arteries, until I'm completely suffused with it. While Alex and I have always been intense in our passion, there has always-always-been cuddling after, usually followed by quiet talk. He's never just left me so suddenly, so coldly.
Clearly this experience was moving to him in a way that was different from the way it was moving to me. It was possibly too intimate for him, or maybe my ability to give him a good orgasm just plain sucks. Maybe I imagined the tenderness of this experience, and Alex didn't appreciate it. Self-doubt overwhelms me and I can feel tears prick at my eyes.
Swinging my legs out of bed, I lurch upward and out. I root around for my clothes and slip my underwear on-backward and inside out, I think-but I don't stop. The slickness of Alex's semen trickles down the inside of my thighs and the thought of it almost makes me want to cry in loss, because I do think I'm losing him. I hastily pull on my T-shirt and reach down for my jeans, when Alex steps back into the room.