Lisa
We decide to watch a movie upstairs. I don't have many to choose from here, but she picks one and carries it up to my room. She pauses when she sees my new headboard and grins. I don't expect her to bring it up, but I'm constantly surprised.
"Quite the impressive headboard you've got there," she comments. "And I see it's solid. No handcuffs are getting through that bad boy."
She's right, but that's not why I bought it. Well, that may subconsciously be why I bought it, but I don't ever plan on putting myself in that type of situation again. So hopefully that wouldn't be an issue either way.
"Yep. Solid. Just like me," I joke with a grin. And what else should I say? We've been having a good night - a very, very good night - and I don't want to broach any type of subject that could ruin it. She must think the same thing, because she crawls into the bed without another comment. She flips the covers down so that I can join her, but I tell her I'm going to change into some dry clothes. Not thinking, I almost carry my clothes to the bathroom, but finally strip down right and front of her. Jennie watches me like she's getting a free show.
"Ooh, and I left all of my ones downstairs," she jokes. But I can see the heat in her eyes, and a part of me doubts we're really going to watch this movie. And a greater part of me is ridiculously excited over this.
But we do watch the movie. For a solid fifteen minutes, at least. Then she rolls over and curls into my side, toying with my abs. I'm wearing nothing but boxers and it's terribly distracting, but I don't stop her. I wouldn't dare stop her.
Her touch gets me hard. I'm wound up all over again, but the blanket fortunately - or unfortunately - hides my obvious display.
Jennie pretends to watch the movie, but it's obviously an act. How could she be? The movie is the farthest thing from my mind, and it's inconceivable that her thoughts are not wandering in the same direction.
I turn on my side so that we're facing and smooth her hair from her face with my hand. Our eyes remain locked as we gently kiss, but then it's a little harder, and then I'm sliding my hand down the back of her skirt, cupping her bottom, and I pull her against me.
We stay like this a moment, just kissing and enjoying each other. Then we flip so that I'm over her, my weight on my elbows, and her skirt comes down easily as soon as it's unbuttoned. She slides her hand beneath my boxers and pushes them down to my thighs - as far as she can reach - and as soon as my cock is free, I slip inside of her, fully entering with one quick, fluid motion.
It's not hurried or rushed this time. It's not frantic or desperate. My movements begin slow and measured, her hips lifting to meet mine, and I remain inside of her as her shirt is pulled away and discarded.
When she asks me to go harder, I go harder. When she rakes her nails down my back, I go faster. When she spreads her legs wider, I go deeper. I prop one of her legs up with my arm, submersing myself as far as I can, and when she arches her back and screams my name, I follow.
She falls asleep curled into my side, and I don't ask whether she wants to stay the night here. It's a given. And I'm not sure I'd let her leave.
I probably watch her sleep for hours. The movie plays on repeat, and sleep evades me. But I'm not upset. I keep thinking that this is what I've been missing - this is what I needed in my life. And I don't realize I'm speaking aloud until she stirs and smiles against my chest, mumbling, "Me, too."
