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– Which one was the key again?
– The red one, I think.– He said, arms crossed over his white shirt that read “always running on low battery”. His body weight leaning against the wall by the doorframe.
– Shouldn’t you know? It’s your place – I noticed his eyes were closed, likely seeking a moment of rest after a long night. With evident reluctance, he opened them just enough to locate the flashlight icon on his phone. A beam of light illuminated the lock, and the red key clicked into place.
– I call dibs on the shower! – I declared as I stepped inside.
– too drunk to argue – he mumbled, his voice thick with fatigue
– Great, I’m way too drunk to let you win.
. . .
The hot water was a contrast to the cold weather outside, but it was a moment of relaxation before going back to shivering. It helped a little with the effects of the alcohol, but I’d had enough for me to be extra careful not to bump into the glass that served as the shower door. By the time I finished, steam had fogged up the mirror, and the towel hanging on the rack was already warm. Wrapped already, I stepped outside in order to locate my clothes.
– Your turn! – I shouted
– Mhmm.
The hoarse voice came from the living room. Without thinkin about it, I walked in and found him resting on the dark blue couch, one arm covering his face, body completely relaxed against the backrest and cushions around him. His arm dropped with a careless motion, and his eyes scanned the scene. The blush the alcohol had already brought to his cheeks deepened and the muscles around his knuckles tensed. Maybe that was exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for.
– Why so red? – I asked, one hand holding the knot of the towel, feet moving toward him slowly.
– Me? – he replied nervously, straightening up, still unsure of my intentions.
– Yes, you. – I stopped in front of his black boots that matched his pocket–covered black pants. Black and white — a slight smile formed on my face when I remembered he doesn’t like wearing any other color. With my free hand, I held his chin so he’d only look me in the eyes – Your turn.
– Mhm – again, the reddish hue still on his face. During a few seconds, I searched his expression for doubt, regret, judgment—but the alcohol had wiped all of that away, replacing them with anticipation and urgency.
Only after letting go of his face did I gently rest my hand on his shoulder and place my knees on either side of his thighs, the towel I wore hitching up and exposing the still–damp skin beneath, never breaking eye contact. Always looking for something—any sign—that would tell me to stop, but I never found it.
As I leaned in, he parted his lips and inhaled audibly, as if breathing had suddenly become difficult.
– Do you want me to get off? – My words seemed to snap him just enough out of his trance. He frowned slightly and replied,
– No. – Still searching in between the lines for the sanity that would say it was better not to. Finally breaking eye contact, my hand on his shoulder moved delicately up his neck, my nails barely grazing the exposed skin, until it rested on his chin again, gently holding it in place. Instinctively, my eyes drifted to his lips, reddened from the strawberry syrup in our drinks early that night.
– Do you want me to kiss you? –
– Yes. – Soft answer, but almost immediate. I thought about what we had drunk—maybe three or four drinks each. We had definitely been drunker before, and I think the alcohol was more of an excuse than a reason.
My fingers slid back down his neck toward his shoulder as I leaned to the opposite side, brushing my lips against the small exposed part of his collarbone, tracing the skin of his neck with just the tip of my nose after he tilted his head to give me more access. When I reached his ear, I gently licked it, then trapped his earlobe lightly between my teeth for a soft tug. He exhaled, somewhere between a heavy breath and a moan, as I kissed my way up his cheek—only to pull away when I reached his lips, just far enough to keep them from meeting mine, he leaned forward a little, but again I pulled back,
– Not yet – and I moved to the other side, repeating the same pattern.
Kiss. Neck. Lick. Bite. Kisses. Back to his lips.
I was burning with anticipation too, but watching him unravel while I held the reins made every second of waiting worth it. With a hand on each side, I traced his neck, his shoulders, the fabric–covered space of his short sleeves, until his exposed tattooed skin again. I reached his wrists and held them gently, guiding his hands to my hips.
He quickly understood the message, and beneath the little that the towel still covered, he slid his hands using his fingers to grip my bare skin on each side.
He pulled me closer with gentle pressure, more like a suggestion than a demand—and I followed, closing the distance between my inner thighs and the rough fabric of his pants, prompting a soft sound to escape my throat.
When I looked at him again, I couldn’t hold back anymore. His eyes had changed—he wasn’t just looking at me with anticipation now. He knew he had some of the control too, and he liked driving me crazy just as much. But when I leaned in to kiss him, it was his turn to pull away.
– Not yet – he said this time, as he gently pushed my hips back and pulled them again against his, slow but firm, setting a rhythm that felt like sweet torture.
It didn’t take much for me to move with him. Within minutes, my body had already responded to what he wanted and his pants didn’t feel as rough anymore.
Now I was the one struggling to breathe.
Burying my face in his neck between moans and whimpers, I let him guide my hips back and forth, letting myself fall into his rhythm as the heat inside me kept rising.
– Baby, I’m going to make a mess on you – the words came out in a whisper, that was all I was able to enunciate. I was getting soaked, and so was the fabric beneath me.
– Don’t worry about that, babe – His hands clung to my skin, and I could start to feel his nails digging into me.– you’re doing so good. –
At some point, one of my hands found the back of the couch, while the other sank into his smooth hair. My fingers tightened as everything intensified, pulling on his head just enough to expose his neck fully to me.
He still kept the rhythm, but I moved on top of him like it was the only way I could breathe, while the effect was exactly the opposite. As a retribution, I bit into the soft skin near my lips—without fully measuring my strength.
– Fu-... – the word trailed off at the same time his hands somehow found a way to fit even more perfectly to the shape of my body, though I hadn’t thought it possible – you’re gonna make me come like this, love –. I could feel his thighs tense beneath me—I knew he was just as soaked as I was, and probably just as close to the edge. My hand tangled in his hair, another bite, the fabric growing wetter by the second—I wasn’t going to last much longer either.
I let go of his neck to reach his lips, but this time he didn’t pull away. Introductions behind us, I kissed him hard and deep, never stopping my movements, until the kiss itself became too hard to sustain. With our lips parted, sharing the same breath, I felt my body cross into the pleasure I’d been craving.
He held me for seconds that felt like hours, slowly relaxing after—but I knew he wasn’t finished.
– You did so well, babe. – The firm grip of his hands softened into a caress as I trembled over his lap. I searched for his eyes and when they met mine, the smile on my face told him exactly what he needed to know:
– I’m not done yet.
I resumed my movements, but now focused in such a way that the fabric pressed exactly where he’d feel the most pleasure. I felt his thighs tense beneath mine again as my hand slid down his body, stopping at the edge of his T-shirt. His skin was cold to the touch, and I let my fingers wander all the way up in search of his chest. I silently thanked the absence of extra layers and began to play with the sensitive, already–pebbled skin that brought him so much excitement.
My lips returned to his ear. As my tongue and teeth teased the area, I was able to hear his moans up close—and the way they grew louder as I increased the pace. I gently pinched the skin between my fingers, making him arch his back as if he could somehow get even closer to my hand. I let him go just enough to pinch his nipple again—this time with more force—while I bit into his neck once more, drawing out a moan that rang clearly in my ear.
I knew it was enough for him that I was satisfied, but having him like this—without having taken off a single piece of clothing, knowing I’d be all spread in his clothes and that he didn’t care—pushed me to the limit again. In my desperation, I quickly moved the hand I had on his chest toward his back. For a second, I felt his muscles respond to my touch, and in the midst of the intensity, I dug my nails into his skin, causing another audible groan that filled me with complete pride.
I didn’t give in until I felt his arms tense and his breath hitch, as if time itself had stopped. My body shook over his lap for the second time, but this time he pulled me tighter—arms wrapped around my waist, his face buried on my neck. His body trembled beneath mine, breaths catching and spilling in rapid, erratic gasps.
Time slowly began to move, and little by little, breathing started to feel like something easy to do again. My hand, resting on his back, found its way out of the shirt and back to his hair, and with a gentle grip, I felt the strands softly slip between my fingers.
I wanted to stay there, feeling his breath against me, running my fingers through his hair, with his arms around me, feeling safe, thinking about how crazy he made me—but we needed proper rest.
Before breaking the moment, my attention was caught by the reddening on his neck—those bite marks were clear and deep. – I’m sorry, I really hope it doesn’t leave a mark – I said, feeling a flush rise to my own face this time.
– I really hope it does, actually. – he answered, without moving his face from my shoulder. I knew he liked it, and I guess it was about time for me to get used to it.
Leaning back just enough not to break the embrace, I cupped his face in my hands. His cheeks were still flushed, and he had a soft, dazed smile on his face that I would’ve paid to preserve. With his eyes closed and that content expression, he looked completely at peace.
Leaving a soft kiss to his temple, I whispered:
– Come on, I’ll join you in the shower. I need another one anyway.