Who's Your Paddy?

Chapter 5

There wasn't much I could describe about Liam's house the first time I stepped through the doorway. Nor could I reasonably explain my impulse to do so. Not that I really wanted to explain it. Sometimes, I learned, you just had to go with your gut. And this decision was, undeniably, a gut driven instinct.

All the artful posturing was over the moment we left the parking lot of the Harp, and we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Thankfully, he lived only three blocks from the bar, so I wasn't completely indecent when we pulled into his driveway.

Like a lust-crazed teenager, I broke a cardinal rule and didn't even pretend to care what he would think of me the 'morning after'. Evidently, neither did he—vanity completely gave way to lust as we clawed and bumped our way from the foyer to his king-sized bed, leaving a trail of clothing in our wake.

Still, ever the anticipation builder, there was a excruciatingly long moment when he laid us across the width of his bed, only to leave me a quivering mass while he stood to finish undressing. I'd never experienced a more salacious need in my entire life. Those long few seconds contained enough nervous energy to fuel a third world country.

When he did finally close the gap between us, his first touch upon my skin sent a shiver down my spine with the ferocity of a cannon blast.

And I quickly discovered he was no less impressive with his physical talents between the sheets as he was with his musical prowess. His slow build to the anxious moment when my body gave in completely to his, coupled with how the room spun by my lusty periphery with dizzying satisfaction-was as if he were playing me like I was his favorite song.

Our first blissful orgasms did little to smother the flames sizzling between our spent and tangled body parts. Not only was it mutual, but all-encompassing as it followed us into the master bath.

I'd gotten up to freshen up in preparation for the next encounter, which we both knew was coming. Instead of waiting for me to rejoin him in bed, he waited outside the bathroom door and spun me against the cool tiled walls when I reappeared.

"I need ta freshen up as well, care ta join me?"

We bathed each other from head to toe, alternating naturally between being the taker and the giver. The cleansing ritual was a journey in eroticism that rivaled any sensual experience I'd ever encountered. He was an absolute master and artfully led the dance to instinctive perfection.

The movement from the shower back to the bed thirty minutes later did nothing to interfere with the lustful high. There were no awkward attempts of composure; each step became an erotic extension that had as many peaks and valleys as the experience in the shower.

I woke up in his arms the next morning, my body reveling in the tiny indicators of being awakened so deliciously. Cracking my eyes open further, I saw that the digital clock on his bedside table read ten o'clock. I could hear his deep, rhythmic breathing, so I snuggled closer, drinking in the scent of his body and drifted back to sleep.

When I woke a second time he wasn't there. For a moment, I felt a small pang. Odd. I thought to myself, considering I usually slept alone.

Upon his return from the bathroom, he slid in next to me and wrapped his body around mine. The feeling of contentment was tremendously edifying.

We greeted the day by making soft love to one another. Our bodies bathed in the sunlight peeking through a large slit in the curtains.

"Mmm. You're making this very hard," I said, rolling on my back shortly after.

"So are you." He grinned.

I smirked at the joke, but my mind kept trying to take an end of encounter deviation.