… and in the dead hours of the night, I wake again.
I’m not sure how long I’ve slept, but my sleep was deep and dreamless and has served its purpose. I’m, if not exactly rested, at least no longer exhausted. My head has cleared.
Beside me, Mitch lies, a silhouette against the glimmer-dark, her breathing soft and even. Somehow in the night, we’ve exchanged positions and now I’m spooned up against her and…
Ahhh…
… now I know what woke me…
…… my hardness presses against her spine.
Would she mind?
From behind, I nuzzle close, nibbling into the crook of shoulder and neck, inhaling her aroma, revelling in the sense of peace I have simply from being here.
Mitch stirs and I pause, then when she lies still once more, I continue mouthing my way over her shoulders.
But although she’s still, her breathing has changed, deepening, becoming louder. “I thought you were tired?” It could sound grouchy, but humour smiles from her words.
“So did I.” I press my groin a little harder against her and she chuckles.
“Not so tired then…”
“Apparently not.”
“Well, let’s see what we can do about that, shall we.” She rolls, turning towards me, but I lay a hand at her waist.
“Lie back. Let me enjoy you. Is that alright?”
That chuckle again. “I suppose it will have to be. And I’m guessing I’ll enjoy it too.” She raises her arms over her head, back onto the pillow, lifts one knee a little, arches her spine a touch: offers herself to me.
It’s the pose of a temptress, a seductress. But I’m all too willing to be seduced.
Or to seduce…
Her body, her soul. Everything of her. Mitch gives herself to me…
She wants me.
And that’s the only thing I ever really wanted.
Exploring her body, I slide fingertips over the swell of a breast, let it fill my palm for a moment, then stroke through the valley between. Tracing smooth skin and the ripple of ribs, I glide down over the curve of her belly. Pausing by her navel, I circle a fingertip around, tracing a spiral around the slight indentation.
Then, continuing my journey, I tangle fingers into the foxy curls at her loins, winding in, enjoying Mitch’s growing dampness and scent, the rising heat of her body. Resting my cheek by her breasts, she’s warming, a fine sheen of perspiration between her skin and mine.
I quest further, drawing fingertips through the delicate skin in the crease of her thighs. Mitch settles a little, her back arching further, thighs parting. Her breathing is growing rushy. “Oh, God, Larry. Get inside me.”
You want me…
… and my shaft throbs harder… “In a while.”
Her legs akimbo, I draw the pads of my fingers over the sensitive skin at the back of a knee, Mitch judders, her perfume blooming. Then, with the tip of a fingernail, I dig in gently, tracing a path inward, toward her sex. She hisses air between her teeth, and biting in a little harder with the nail, I follow a trail to her inner thigh.
Her breathing is sharp and spasmodic, coming in gasps. “Larry…”
And now, exploring deeper, I stroke over her outer lips, caressing flesh already swollen and growing more so. Mitch parts her thighs further, rocking her hips to angle upward. A whimper shimmers from her throat.
My palm is wet and her flesh is opening to me. Tracing circles around her pussy with a finger, I take a nipple between my teeth, nipping lightly, drawing it tight, plucking it up from the breast until it stands taut and hard. The aureole crinkles under my tongue as I nudge spirals around the firm nub.
She groans.
I tighten my hold on her nipple, nibbling gently, then less gently. “What would you like, Mitch? Tell me.”
Her groan deepens. “Where you’re headed right now is feeling pretty good.” She’s reaching for me, trying to pull me to herself… “Oh, God, Larry, get inside me…”
But I resist… “I will, but not yet.”
“Larry…” She’s hoarse, sounding strained.
“I want you to come first. Once I’m inside you, I’ll not last more than a minute or so.”
She draws a breath. Then another. “Is that right? Let’s see what we can do about that then.” In the darkness, she unravels herself from me, shifts around then, opening her mouth wide, drops her head over my shaft.
God…
“Mitch…”
“Shush… I wanted to do this last time and you interrupted me.”
“Are you sure?”
She breaks away, leans away from me, then a side-light clicks on. She sits up straight, sweeping her hair back over her shoulders and locking her gaze with mine. Her chin tilts up. “Who do you think you are, to say what I do or don’t want?”
?
I have no answer. And neither have I any experience in ‘a relationship’ to guide me on how I suddenly, somehow, find myself skating on thin ice.
Blinking, I shrug, hold up my hands.
Mitch continues to hold my eye, then after a moment or two, gives a small nod and a smile before, stooping once more, she wraps her lips around my seeping erection. As her tongue swipes over the swollen head, I press back, gasping, onto the pillow.
The wet heat of her mouth and tongue settles over my shaft. Mitch’s fingers work between my thighs until she cups my balls in her hand, kneading gently.
Groaning, “Christ…”
She breaks away momentarily. “Shhh… Relax. Enjoy.”
It’s enticing, delicious almost to the point of being unbearable and I lie, twitching and grunting as I deliver myself into the hands of my lover.
Lover?
Am I your lover?
What am I to you?
Do you love me?
Or just want me?
Or are you simply grateful that I helped bring back your daughter?
Our daughter.
Sucking at me now, one hand still massaging my groin, Mitch rings the base of my cock with thumb and forefinger, tightening her grip, upping the pressure. My shaft swells and strains and my thighs are tight and trembling.
“Mitch…” My voice shudders… “I can’t hold it. I’m going to come.”
Her mouth still fastened over me, something rumbles from her chest…
Agreement?
Applause?
Laughter?
But Mitch doesn’t move. Instead, her tongue laves the rim of my cockhead, the tip probing, swiping, twisting.
My groin ripples… pressures… surges…
The pleasure as I shoot is sharp; ecstatic almost to the point of pain, the sensation bright and breathless and tingly. Groaning, I pulse, splashing hot into her mouth. Another pulse and another…
The movement of her hand over my shaft stills, but her hold tightens, increasing the pressure further. I think I’m done, but she’s not released me, one hand still kneading my balls, slipping the hard cores between her fingers like some high-price executive toy…
And, with resources I thought already spent, I fire a final volley…
Christ…
“Stop, Mitch. For fuck’s sake… Stop!”
And I lie still, blinking and completely enervated.
She sits up, licking over her lips, eyes dancing. “Good?”
“God, yes. Mitch…” My eyes are still rolling in their sockets and my heart’s jack-hammering. My lungs too. Spots dance at the corners of my vision. “Thank you. That was… astonishing.” I hold out my arms and she shimmies into my embrace, snuggling close.
And there she lies, warm and soft and fragrant, enclosed in my arms as I stroke her hair. “Mitch, you didn’t come…”
Her voice grows soft. “Doesn’t matter. There’s more than one thrill.” She turns her face up to mine, kisses me then nestles back into my chest.
Mitch’s breathing slows again. Turns steady. Rhythmic. Quiet.
Her head tucked just under my chin, strands of hair brush my face, snagging on overgrown stubble, itching a little.
I don’t care.
The moment is magical… Moving…
Mine…
You’re mine…
…
And I can’t keep you…
The words rise in me. Never have I spoken them before, nor had the urge to do so.
I kiss the copper silk of her hair. “I love you.” I say it so quietly. She’s sleeping anyway. She surely can’t have heard me.
Mitch shifts in my arms, stiffening. “What?”
“I said, I love you. I wanted you to know that.”
“Don’t you dare,” she hisses, her palms pressing to my ribs as she pushes away from me. She jolts to sit upright, pulling the blankets away. “Don’t you use those words like that, to say goodbye to me. Don’t you dare use those words like that!”
“Mitch…” I sit up myself, tugging to retrieve some blankets for myself as my arms goose. She clutches the sheets to her chest, covering her breasts, trembling. Her eyes are liquid emeralds, threatening to spill.
“Mitch, I have to leave. You know I have to. I can’t stay.”
She sucks her lips in, pressing them flat, and her throat ripples. “It’s not fair. Larry, we’ve had so little time. It’s not fair.” She sounds like some small child, raging at the injustice of the world. “It’s not… It’s just not…”
No, it’s not fair… Not on you…
When was life ever fair to you?
My fault…
Karma…
Moving closer, I prise the blankets from her fingers, pull them over to tent around us so I can hold her. “Mitch, you know the things I’ve done. It’s payback time. I have to deal with this. I simply have to. Everything that has happened here is because of me. It’s my fault. I can’t walk away from that.”
Knuckles pressed to her mouth, she turns away. Her lashes are wet. And then… the tears spill, streaming down her cheeks. Throwing herself at me, she breaks into racking sobs.
I don’t know what to do. What do people do in this situation? I have no words of comfort for her. All I can do is hold her, murmuring something and nothing, stroking her hair, much as I did only a little while ago, but now in very different mood.
I can’t bear it.
Everything that has happened over the last few days, I can handle. I’ve been injured before. Wounds heal. Pain is nothing; just the body’s way of telling you to be careful. People seeking revenge on me… Treating me like the shite I know I am… Water off a duck’s back.
But Mitch, crying in my arms… I have no idea how to cope with that.
Eventually, her sobs subside. She doesn’t speak. Instead, she slides under the blankets, curling in on herself. I follow, moving close, trying to pull her to me, to give her the comfort of my body. But she simply withdraws into herself, her breathing ragged.
At length, I release her, rolling to my side of the bed. I’m not sure, but she seems to be sleeping, so I turn off the light then lie, staring, sleepless, into the darkness.
How long for?
An hour?
Two?
In any case, it’s still dark outside when my phone blinks, vibing over the side table…
… I slap my hand onto it, not wanting it to disturb what’s left of Mitch’s sleep.
Who? At this hour?
James maybe?
Blinking, grimy-eyed at the screen… It’s Baxter…
Want to talk?
Of course, it’s just a message. All I know is that it came from Baxter’s phone.
Is it Baxter?
Or Her?
Am I being baited again?
Of course I am. Someone wants to pull my strings. To make me dance.
As quietly as I can, phone in hand, I slip out from between the sheets, snagging up my clothes to head through to Mitch’s lounge. Quickly I dress, then snatch the luxury of two minutes in the bathroom to splash water over my face.
Then, returning to my phone, I tap in.
Talk about what?
No reply comes immediately so, helping myself from Mitch’s drinks cupboard, I pour myself a malt. It’s a good one. I’ve not seen Mitch drink whiskey, so perhaps James donated it. A deep amber swirl in the tumbler, it’s smoky and peaty and washes my throat in honey and fire.
The screen flashes again.
Want to play?
My stomach tightens. I sip at the excellent whiskey. My fatigue is gone. My head is clear.
I’m ready.
Mitch?
Say goodbye?
I look towards the bedroom door: take in air.
No need to disturb her…
Then I kick myself back into self-honesty.
Don’t lie to yourself…
I don’t want to see any more of her tears.…
Knocking back the last of my whiskey, I tap my reply.
Where?
*****