Make It Easy…

Make It Easy…

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“What’s wrong?” Pierre asked, pulling back. He was looking at me like he already knew the answer, which was fine, since I couldn’t verbalize it anyway.

Instead, I shook my head, taking a step away, out of his hold. “Nothing.”

Nothing,” he mocked, but not in a cruel way.  Maybe just pointing out how ridiculous it sounded. “You’re thinking about ol’ boy, huh?” He stood up to approach me, backing me toward the counter until I couldn’t retreat further. “Worried about how he might feel?”

I bit my lip, nodding as he leaned into me, his lips grazing my ear. “Yeah.”

“But you told me he didn’t try with you. He didn’t give a damn. He didn’t make you feel wanted… right?”

A rush of air pushed from my lungs as his fingers tangled in my hair, tugging until I tipped my head back, meeting his gaze. “Right.”

“Okay. So… instead of worrying about his feelings… how about…” he smirked, then leaned in to finish that sentence right against my lips. “Don’t.”

“Just like that, huh? You think it’s easy?”

“I can make it easy as fuck,” he countered, pressing into me so I could feel his hardness against my stomach.

Maybe he was right, because that definitely blanked my mind to anything else, and he took advantage of my speechlessness to kiss me again – longer, deeper than before. This time, when his hands dropped to my ass to grip and squeeze, there was no moment of panic, no stiffening.

I just went with it.

Instead of worrying about this, or that, or anything else, I gave myself fully to his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, his hands at the waistband of my shorts, sliding them down for more intimate access to me. Even when he showed me the condom he’d pulled from his wallet, I didn’t rattle – I nodded.

I – inexplicably – wanted this.

Wanted someone who wasn’t Les – who wasn’t anything like Les – inside of me.

Pierre delivered.

Impressively.

Right there on my kitchen counter, he stripped me down to nothing and stroked me to the point of tears with my legs locked around his waist, fingernails digging into his shoulders, eyes squeezed tight. I came in a flood of sensation that left me feeling lighter than I could remember in… a long time. Legs numb, arms loose, toes tingling, all those sensations that I’d damn near determined out of my reach.

Pierre had done it so… easily.

He did it a few more times too, actually – up against the wall in the hallway leading to my bedroom, and then my actual bed, making a complete mess of my bedding and sheets.

And then, when I finally peeled myself out of bed at damn near five in the morning to take a shower… he disappeared. When I got up for the bathroom, he was snoozing away, but by the time I came back, he was gone, leaving nothing but his lingering scent on my sheets.

Which… maybe should’ve made me feel bad, but it didn’t.

I felt the exact opposite.

And I didn’t give a fuck, at all, about Les.

I changed my sheets, and made arrangements for my car, since it was morning now. With that settled, I adjusted the settings on my window covering to block the sun out, set an alarm, and settled in the comfort of my own bed to catch a few hours of sleep.

Once I was rested, I’d figure out just how badly I’d blown up my life.

4 Comments
  • Ayanna
    Posted at 10:19h, 13 September Reply

    Whewwww… I am ready for Pierre°°

  • Karen
    Posted at 10:33h, 13 September Reply

    Wooo Chile! I need a drink, or a cold shower!

  • Tina Jackson
    Posted at 11:02h, 13 September Reply

    Oh man, I am so ready for tgese two

  • Marshall
    Posted at 13:05h, 13 September Reply

    Yassss Hunty… come through Behind The Scene

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