Last updated on April 30th, 2019 at 10:56 am
Listening: Hey Now – London Grammar
It’s amazing how the one who hurt you is sometimes the only one who can understand, who can help make you feel better. She thought of this as she sat miserably in bed, the heavy rain causing a persistent din outside. Sighing deeply, she stood up wearily, and began slowly taking off her clothes, dropping them on the floor. She walked into her adjoining bathroom stark naked, and let the warm water run over her. She doused herself in shower gel, and stood there staring at the tiny bubbles washing over her skin. When she was done, she enshrouded herself in her oversize fluffy towel – “blanket”, he used to call it. Then she moved slowly into her room, used just a little body lotion on her damp, warm skin, then let the towel drop right in the middle of the room.
She pulled his T-shirt over her naked body, then got out his perfume, feeling like a thief. She sprayed two corners of the room, then spritzed a little of it on her T-shirt as well. Falling gently into the comfort of her soft bed, she pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes… She could smell him everywhere.
She felt so warm and clean from her shower. His T-shirt was touching her, touching her in secret places. It covered her breasts confidently, making her nipples peak and her breath increase.It felt like he was right there!
Her senses clouded with memories of their times together. She was startled out of her trance-like reverie as she realized that that pounding sound meant someone was actually banging on her door. In this downpour!
Fearfully, she pulled on her robe and fastened it tightly, inching tentatively towards the door as though whoever stood on the other side of it could see her every move.
It was so dark outside that peeping out through the peephole was an unnecessary eye-strain, so she gulped and opened the door. She gasped at what she saw there, just as bolt of lightning dramatically illuminated her rain-soaked visitor.
It was him.
What the hell!
Was he even real, or she was just still imagining it all? He didn’t wait for her to figure it out. He stepped in through the doorway, closed and bolted the door shut, then began to shed his wet clothes. She stood there the whole time, mouth open and brain scrambled in confusion. He turned to her only when he was naked, lifted her up off the floor and carried her to her bedroom. He planted her at the foot of the bed and stripped her clothes off her, a fiery, primeval need burning in his eyes. She could already feel his length prodding eagerly between her thighs, seeking out the entrance to her warmth. Her breathing was coming out irregularly now, and their exhaled breaths formed a visible, but ignored little fog, coming to rest on their naked bodies.
They paused for a while, silently looking down, chests heaving a little from the rapid beating of their hearts. He lay her out on the bed and stood above her, a struggle going on in his eyes. Then he began to kiss her warm flesh; tiny kisses randomly spread all over.
Her stomach went concave; he was dragging the breath out of her with this teasing. She pulled up his head from where it was doing stuff down by her belly button and stared deep into his eyes.
No time. Next time can be slower.
He hadn’t asked a question, but she had given the answer he was looking for. Roughly, he climbed up her body, hesitated for a few seconds, then dipped his head and kissed her. This kiss was different. This one was rough and urgent and the stubble from his rough beard unapologetically rubbed against her face. She felt herself swimming in time; transported to the many times they had done this, coming up for air to find that they were here; it was happening.
She almost felt surrounded as he pawed greedily at her body. He knew her well. He would have entered her already, but he knew it would hurt her if she wasn’t properly wet. So he kissed her in a way that made her moan, his stiff smooth dick tickling the cul-de-sac of her thighs, his hands touching her everywhere all at once, and squeezing on her turgid breasts and nipples.
She writhed around like an earthworm with salt sprinkled on it, trying at once to offer her body to his ministrations and touch and kiss whatever parts of him she could reach. She caught herself licking his smooth shoulder and drifted back in time to all those years ago when they’d first had sex. She had licked him then, too, and apologised for it: I’ve never licked anyone before, but… I just can’t help licking you.
The look in his eyes then made her dip her head, stretch out her tongue and lick his collarbone, confidently this time. Now she licked his neck and laughed brazenly when his groan came out more like a growl.
She parted her legs and stroked the length of him until she could feel his precum mingling with her moistness. She raised up her pelvis, and swallowed him up into herself. They moaned simultaneously but didn’t move; kissing deeply instead.
When she started to shudder like a cow twitching its skin to chase off flies, he began to thrust in and out of her. The memories came back to him: this was like a homecoming. She was wet, and warm, and tight, just like he remembered. He slowed down and bent to suck on on her nipples, staving off the waves building up inside him. She wrapped her legs around him and suddenly he didn’t care if they came too soon.
He fucked her roughly, almost angrily, trying to get out the frustration of not being able to move on after her. She took it bravely, thrusting out her hips to meet him, tweaking his nipples with her hands and licking every part of him that she could. It was only when the sweat had been wiped off their faces and their loud panting finally slowed down, that they realized it had stopped raining.
Ejike pulled Martha close to him, and covered them both with her duvet. This was where he belonged.