A small part of me wonders if we should calm down, collect ourselves. Be sensible.
Another part, significantly larger, says What are you, nuts? Enjoy this.
And all the other parts, the vast majority, think nothing at all. They enjoy the rhythm and the movement, the texture and the tension. When I feel the wave begin to draw away from the coast again, gathering its power to crash over me, I arch my back, reveling in our stamina, and join them.
21
David
Holy shit.
I lay on my back. Jane lies at my side, her head resting on my arm. My heart is still pounding in my chest like a Kentucky racehorse.
I have a watch somewhere. Or a phone. Something to tell me what time it is. Probably close to evening, judging from the shift in sunlight outside. I glance at the floor beside the mattress, noting the number of condom wrappers and used tissues scattered across the floor.
Holy shit.
It’s been years since I’ve fucked like that. Been fucked like that. Found a woman who could keep up with me, who I wanted to keep up with. I glance down my body, sweat glistening across my torso and back, a slight sting on my shoulders where my little professor bit and scratched me. My dick, limp and exhausted, lays against my thigh, happier than I’ve ever seen it.
Who would have thought that this quiet, academic woman would be the greatest sex of my life? That my forest nymph, my trespasser and private tutor would blow my mind to pieces.
“Holy shit,” she says, eyes closed, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth.
She turns her head and smiles at me. “You’re very skilled.”
I laugh, my stomach muscles clenching slightly under the movement. “Thank you,” I gaze down at her, dropping a kiss to the tip of her nose. “You too.”
“I don’t know,” she shakes her head, her face registering the same shock and confusion as my own. “I think that was mostly you.”
“No, no.” I stare at the ceiling, amazed that my heart is still beating so hard. “It was a tie.”
“A dead heat.”
I nod, swallowing. My mouth is dry. In silence surrounding our heavy breathing, one of our stomachs rumbles. It occurs to me that, having spent all day in bed, we haven’t eaten or drunk anything in several hours.
“What time is it?” Jane sits up, propping herself on her elbows and dragging the twisted sheet up to cover her breasts. I tug it down, enjoying the play of afternoon light over her skin. She pulls it back up.
“I don’t know. Afternoon?”
She looks at me, then back at the blank wall in front of us, then back at me. It’s hard not to laugh, seeing her befuddled face. Knowing I look the same way. If someone walked in on us, they would probably think we were shell-shocked, having just survived a grenade shower.
Then again, they would see the nudity, the piles of condom wrappers, and have a pretty good idea what we’d been up to.
“I have to go.” She begins pulling the sheet off the bed, wrapping it around her body as she struggles to her feet.
“What?” I sit up. “Why?”
“I have a date.”
“What?” My eyebrows must be at my hairline.
“I mean, with my friends. A dinner date.” She finishes wrapping herself in the bedding, a make-shift toga around her body, and penguin-walks around the mattress to retrieve her articles of clothing. “We do it every week.”
“Tonight’s the night?”
“Yeah. No. Tomorrow, but I forgot. I was…” she glances at me, naked and prostrate on the bed, now that the sheet is wrapped around her and the blankets have been kicked clear across the room.
“Distracted?” I ask with a wink and a grin.
“Very.”
“Better than Penelope?”
She gives me a funny look. “I’ve never had sex with Penelope.”
I laugh and shake my head. “I mean as a distraction. Your original plan was to use your friend.”
“Ah, yes, well,” she smiles, scooping up underwear, bra, jeans and her shirt, which managed to land clear across the room, “you are a much better distraction than Penelope.”
“What’s the rush if it’s tomorrow?”
“I’ve got to get ready.”
She penguin-walks to the closet door, opens it, peers inside, and shuts it, turning to me. I point to the door on the left, which she enters, shutting it behind her.
I gather the condom wrappers and tissues and toss them in the waste basket, stamping down the evidence of our afternoon. I reach my hand over, behind the basket, for a pillow which somehow ended up all the way over there and roll onto my stomach, feeling no particular inclination to get dressed.
She emerges from the bathroom, fully dressed. I feel a wave of disappointment in seeing her clothed. I want to draw her back to me, pull her down on the bed and see if we can make each other pass out again. But the look in her eyes tells me I won’t have much of a chance.
“So, you’re just gonna bail?”
“What?” She looks up, hands on her hair, attempting to smooth the strands into submission.
“You’re running away.” I smile, the pillow pressed against me, and enjoy the feel of her gaze on my body, the way her eyes linger on my ass.
“I’m not running away.” She puts her hands on her hips, face stern. I make a mental note to suggest we play naughty librarian at a later date. “I am keeping an appointment.”
“You could keep this appointment.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her.
“We didn’t have an appointment.”
“Please,” I roll over, watching her eyes drop, briefly, to my cock. “You drove to my house, barged in. Practically threw yourself at me.”
“Is that how you remember it?” She asks, a smile playing on her lips. Hands still on hips.
Definitely going to have to play naughty librarian.
“Absolutely. I hardly stood a chance.”
She walks forward, kneeling beside the mattress and
