This afternoon, we lay in bed together.
“Don’t squirm so much.”
In that parallel universe disguised as a loft on Du Port Street.
“It tickles.” I twitched.
“No…be still.” Nick’s mouth, softer than cashmere, moved across my stomach. His eyes, like two giant Ulysses butterflies fluttered above my skin, spying on me. “Feels nice, no?”
I closed my eyes. “Yes.”
Nick believed that sexual desire was strongest at the edges of our erogenous zones, and he was demonstrating the power of his theory. When his lips skimmed my inner thigh, I let out a small groan.
“Shh…”
Silence was key. Had to hear and feel every breath. “Sorry,” I said.
Nick flashed a smile and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s okay.” He stretched out next to me, nestling his face into the fold of my neck. “You’re still too focused on what your cock wants.”
I laughed. “Oh yeah?”
He kissed my ear. “Yeah…I don’t know, something feels tense in there.” He’d gently pushed his finger into my stomach.