When my breathing levels, I chase an impulse and kiss the top of her head. One of her hands rests on my chest, the fingers slowly drawing circles around my nipple, awakening it. The sensitivity seems to be waking my cock right back up already.
“I didn’t see this happening,” she murmurs, voice barely audible.
“I did,” I joke back cockily. “It was inevitable. I wanted you since that first moment I saw you.”
“Nothing to do with the fact that you were ass-naked?”
“Well.” I smirk into her hair, hugging her tight against my body. “Actually, maybe it did have to do with that … a bit.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. It was sorta like … when I first met you, you saw me in a very vulnerable position. Your first impression of me was … me baring it all. We’ve been intimate since the first moment we met.”
“Intimate,” she echoes thoughtfully.
I lower my voice to a whisper. “I like it that way.”
She squeezes against me, a leg of hers flipping over mine. I let my hand play with her hair as it slowly runs up and down the length of her back. And it’s like that, in each other’s arms, all our sweaty, sticky, unapologetic mess slowly growing cold between us, that our warm, breathless bodies drift into the most peaceful sleep I’ve ever known.
BRANT
It’s the best Sunday morning I’ve ever had.
I’m the first to wake up. Her face rests on my chest, one of her arms tucked between us and the other slung over my abdomen, her fingers splayed close to my cock. Just the awareness of that makes it spring to action, as if it’s ready for a round or two of her hand for breakfast.
I don’t want to move. I hate the idea of accidentally stirring her awake, even with just an innocent flinch or adjustment of my arm, and ruining whatever sort of otherworldly peace we have going on here.
I can’t remember the last time a girl’s stayed over and I haven’t wanted her to just disappear. With Nell, all of my fears feel turned back on me, as if in some sort of ironic retribution for all the girls whose hearts I’ve strung along or broken over the years. I’m worried Nell will want to leave the moment she wakes. What if she opens her eyes and reality sets in, and the horror of the “hornucopia” she just had sex with assaults her mind full-force and floods her with regret?
Call me selfish, but I don’t want to be anything she regrets. I want to be what makes her smile and feel safe.
People call me a player. They’ve always called me a player. Even my friends do. But I’ve never been one, not truly—not in my mind or in my heart. I’m a lover and always have been. A part of me has to believe Nell knows that, and maybe that’s why she’s still around.
Her hand moves slightly, grazing the hairs by my cock. I grow even stiffer, my cock agonized by the close proximity of her fingers and the potential of what she could do with them.
Seriously, I feel like a charged piston ripe with electrical energy, this woman curled up against my body and keeping me on the brim of some sort of sexual explosion.
It’s a good thing we aren’t spooning; I’d be poking holes in her back with my morning wood.
With her cradled against me, I can’t reach the top of the dresser where the new camera my parents sent me rests. It isn’t actually new; Dad just sent one of his old ones, which he claims is only three years old. “It’ll do for your needs,” he told me. “Graduate and get yourself a decent job, we’ll talk about getting you a newer one.” I didn’t ask about the insurance or why they couldn’t just replace my stolen one.
Unable to reach the camera, I simply look down at the beauty resting on me and reflect on the words she said. “You don’t need your big flashy device. If you didn’t have your phone, you’d take pics with your mind.” I smile, remembering that night and comparing it to the night we just had. She breathes peacefully, evenly, as she sleeps on my chest. “Take my picture, Brant.”
I blink, burning the sight of her into my memory. I feel like I don’t have it burned deep enough, so I blink again, harder. I’m determined to keep this moment locked in my brain forever.
Then she stirs, lifting her head off of me. It almost hurts, feeling the sudden departure of her warmth. Propping herself up, she glances around my room slowly, her hair cascading beautifully down her bare backside.
The moment she turns, I close my eyes, pretending to still be asleep. I listen, desperate for her touch as I lie there, my right hand still grazing her lower back. The unmoving silence tells me she’s watching me. A smidge of doubt tickles me, wondering if I’ve been caught and daring me to open my eyes.