the spark we lost

9

A few weeks after we said I love you for the first time, you and I had my place to ourselves. We'd decided to celebrate the fact by walking around in our underwear. It was sweltering out, the kind of muggy July heat that makes me wish I could spend the whole day submerged in a swimming pool, and even though the air conditioner was on full blast, the apartment was still warm.

"Scarlett's grandparents were real estate geniuses," you said, as we scrambled eggs half baked. "When did they buy this place?"

"No idea," I said, sticking some English muffins in the toaster. "Before her dad was born so. . . 1940s?"

You whistled.

I know we didn't stay there often, but I bet you remember that apartment. It was hard to forget. The two huge bedrooms and bathrooms, that breakfast nook we used as a library. And the ceilings that were about twelve feet high. I didn't appreciate those details then, but I did appreciate the apartment. Scarlett was in law school, and her dad said it was cheaper for her to live there than for him to pay housing down by NYU. It worked well for me, too.

"We visited Scarlett's grandma here when we were in middle school," I told you, as we sat on the couch with our breakfast plates on our bare knees. "She was a docent at the mart until she got sick. She'd studied art history at Smith back before most women even thought about college."

"I wish I'd met her,you said, after a sip of coffee.

"You would've loved her."

We chewed quietly, our thighs against each other as we ate, my shoulder grazing your arm. It was impossible for us to be in a room together without touching.

"When does Scarlett come back?" you asked, after you finished swallowing.

I shrugged. She's met Brian about a month before, and that night was maybe the second time she'd stayed at his place. "We should probably get dressed soon."

I felt your eyes on my breasts. You put your plate down, done with breakfast.

"You have no idea what you do to me, Lana," you said, as you watched me rest my fork on my plate: "All morning, you without any clothes on. It's  like being dropped into one of my fantasies." Your hand strayed to your lap and then you were touching yourself slowing through cotton.

I'd never watched you touch yourself, never seen what you did when you were alone. I couldn't stop looking.

"Now you," you said, tugging yourself free of your boxers.

I put my plate down and reached for you, already turned on. You shook your head and smiled.

"That's not what I meant."

I raised my eyebrows, and then I understood what you wanted. I slid my fingers down my stomach. You'd never watched me touch myself either. But the idea of it thrilled me. I closed my eyes, thinking about you, thinking about you looking at me, thinking about sharing this personal moment with you, and I felt my body shudder.

"Lana," you whispered.

My eyes fluttered open and I saw you stroking yourself faster. It felt more intimate than sex, the two of us performing this act for each other, an act that was usually private. The lines that separates "you" and "me" were blurring even more into an "us".

While I kept touching myself, you leaned against the couch taking your boxers off completely, your eyes on me the whole time. Our hands sped up and so did our breathing. I began to slowly rub my clit, soft strokes. I knew by the looks of it you were getting more turned on. You wanted me to slip my fingers inside myself, but I didn't listen. I wanted him to make me beg for it.

I watched your grip tighten. I could hear you moaning from a mile away, you tilted your head back and your breathing was starting to get faster than usual. It was hot. I watched you stroke your member faster and I saw you cum. Your cum was dripping down your hand, as your breathing started to get slower.

"Fuck. Oh god." you said. "Oh, Lana."

I moved my fingers more insistently, to join you, but you clasped your hand around my wrist.

"May I?" you asked.

I shivered at the sound of your voice. It was low and deeper than usual. You were staring into my eyes while you said those words.

Then I nodded and you shifted so I could lie down along the length of the couch, so you could slide off my underwear. You moved closer, and as you did my pussy throbbed a little.

As you slipped your fingers inside me you said, " I have a secret."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, arching to meet your hand.

"Oh, yeah," you said, stretching out next to me, your mouth against mine while your fingers still going inside me.

"Whenever I touch myself, I think about you."

A shudder ripples through my body. "Me too," I whispered between breaths.

"Remember baby, don't cum for me unless I tell you to." you said.

I nodded.

Your fingers were still inside me, my breathing started to get louder and faster. I felt my walls clench  and It looked like you felt it too. The amount of pressure I felt because of your fingers, it hurted a little but It felt super good.

"Atta girl." you said.

I tilted my head back and arched my back . You were staring at me so intensely I could feel it. I wanted to cum so badly but you haven't gave me permission yet.

"Cum for me baby. Cum for daddy." you said with a smirk on your face.

You released it and you looked down and saw that you cummed on his hand. Chris gave you  a look that made you give him a little smirk.

You both got up and sat down on the couch. You were tired a little but not as much, you still felt a squirm in your stomach. You saw that he was still half naked, he didn't have no shorts on and boxers.

You got up and you started to walk towards the bathroom. You felt him staring at your ass, and you smiled, you were glad that he couldn't see me smiling.

"Lana!" you said.

I turned my head back and said " Yes?".

"Can you do me a favor?" you said.

"Yeah, what is it?" I said.

"Suck my cock?" you said.