::TWELVE::
I stay as still as I can, curled up behind her, just wanting to hold her as she sleeps, not wanting her to wake up just yet. I love the feel of her against me, her warm body pressed against my chest. She snuggles closer, her back pressed hard to me, my arm pulled tighter across her chest. My belly flutters, as she makes another one of those small contented sighing sounds in her sleep. A quiet little moan, a sigh, that has me wanting her more by the minute. If she doesn’t wake soon, I may have to wake her up anyway. I like watching her though, asleep in my bed, her dark hair fanned over my pillow.
A deep intake of breath, her body tenses, and, like the morning we woke on the porch, she stretches in that same cat way, arching her back one way and then the other, before she pulls herself even closer to me, smiling. “Morning, Sean.” Her voice is sleepy, and sweet, and quiet, and has me let out one of those contented sighs of my own just hearing it. I could listen to her all day, but in the morning, first thing in the morning, waking up in my bed, that’s new, and I love the sound of it.
She made a move to roll over onto her back but I’m not quite willing to let her go yet. “Stay.” Laughing softly into her tangled mane of hair, holding her still. “I like just holding you like this, ‘Nette.”
I’ve never had another woman in this bed, my old one being one of the first things Hicks and Candice got rid of for me, after Stacy died. I’m happy it’s her, that she’s the first, the only. That it’s someone I fell in love with first. We both lie still for a moment, her left hand in mine, our wedding rings touching.
“This is definitely better than sleeping on the porch.” A quiet giggle, her neck arching, as I kiss behind her ear.
“I liked sleeping on the porch with you.” I can feel her heart race, my hand between her breasts, as I leave a trail of kisses down the side of her neck. The soft hairs at her nape raising in gooseflesh as my tongue traces circles there. “But this is better.” I’ve always liked the morning.
She lets out a low, soft, seductive sound, somewhere between a purr and a growl, as I try to shift my hips away from her. She turns to watch me, just enough that I can catch her grin, pressing back into me, my erection pressed once again into her hip. “You’re killing me, ‘Nette.” The fabric of her pajama bottoms and the sweats I wore to bed last night seem like a huge distance between us right now, and not enough distance to avoid the heat of her.
A slow caress over her breast, almost tentative, as her hand untangles from mine, rolling over to lie on her back, looking up at me finally. My heart catches in my throat, looking at her sleepy grin. “I doubt it’ll kill either one of us.”
I rest on my elbow, watching her for a moment, watching the pale sunlight from my bedroom window make patterns across her hair, her face. It’s like being lost, my hand on the soft swell of her breast, just watching her. I had dreamt of making love to her, and the thought had occurred to me enough. Everything feels still, nothing moving but dust motes in the pale sunlight. I want to remember everything, knowing that I’m about to make love to her this morning for the first time, here, in my bed.
“Are you sure you’re okay, ‘Nette? I can wait for you, if you’re not.” I swallow hard, trying not to hold my breath, hating that I’ve asked it, and knowing that I couldn’t have done anything else. That I had to ask, that I had to be sure. It would kill me to hurt her. She watches me for a moment, and I wonder if she’s doing the same thing, if she’s making sure she remembers everything about this moment too.
Her hand whispers over the stubble of my jaw, settling at the side of my neck, her thumb tracing patterns, before pulling me to her, the answer clear in her kiss. We both want this, both want each other. A deeply passionate kiss, that has me remember every time I’ve ever kissed her, or touched her. My tongue tangled in hers, making me think of every time I’ve dreamt of her, dreamt of making love to her.
I want her. I want her so badly, so intensely, that it hurts. That same intensity burns in her eyes, when I pull back to watch her, her eyes impossibly dark with the strength of the emotion in her. “I want you too, Sean. I’m a little nervous, because it’s been a while. But I want you too.”
She looks almost shy, once she’s said it, a blush creeping across her face. She doesn’t look down and doesn’t look away. “I’m nervous too, ‘Nette.” I’m nervous because it feels like my first time. Not just with Jeanette, but ever. I’m nervous about pleasing her, about satisfying her.
I lean down to kiss her, just once, softly, my hand shaking just a little as I pull up the hem of her shirt. She arches her back, to help me with it, throwing it off the edge of the bed. That soft almost purring sound she makes as I kiss her neck, cupping her breast, a sound that makes me moan in spite of myself. Her soft gasp as I nip her earlobe, brush my lips over her skin as I kiss the small hollow under her jaw, tracing the line of her throat. Kissing her swell of her breast, her small dark nipple hard under my hand. I close my eyes for a second, as my lip brushes against her nipple, her soft moan a deep O of want. I could get lost, just in the sound of her, the soft sighs growing sharper as I suck harder, pulling her nipple hard with my tongue against the roof of my mouth.
Her hand strokes over the back of my neck, her fingers splaying to keep from scratching, her other hand doing the same with a fistful of bedsheets. I play with her navel, feeling her back arch under my hand. Tracing a pattern along the faint wisp of hair, disappearing under her pajama bottoms, stopping at the edge. “Jeanette…” I couldn’t say if I was asking a question or not, but her answer was clear, her hand covering mine, as I threaded my fingers through her curls. “Please Sean, I want you so badly.”
I let go of her nipple to watch her, as I circle her clitoris, the small nub already hard under my fingertips. Whispering her name, as I lean in, to kiss her parted lips. My own guttural moan pulled from me as I slip further between already slick wetness. Circling the edge of her entrance, back across the beautiful petal edges of her labia to her clitoris, resting my thumb there while I continued to explore the depths of her.
“No, Jeanette.” Her hand stops at my belly, seeking to reciprocate. “If you touch me, I’ll never last. I want this to be for you. Come for me, beautiful Jeanette.”
I caress the outer edge of her, her hips rising for me, closing my eyes and resting against the side of her neck as the heat of her takes my breath away. Sliding deep, brushing my thumb over her hard little button, my erection pressed hard against her thigh as I try to think of anything but coming. Pressing deep against the slick ridged upperside, until her back arches suddenly and her moan turns into a soft cry. “Come for me.”
“Sean…” Her voice whispers my name in a shuddering moan as she comes, her hand resting on mine at the end, as her hips buck. I bite my lip hard, just trying to breathe. Please, just don’t let me disappoint her, a silent plea in the back of my mind.
My hand leaves a wet path up the skin of her belly, her breast, cupping her jaw before I kiss her again. A gentle brushing of lips, before watching her, our eyes holding each other, everything else disappearing until it’s just us. I shift my weight, resting between her thighs for a moment, watching her, loving the feel of her underneath me, the damp heat of her.
Swallowing hard before easing back to sit on my heels between her thighs, her hands already at the waist of her pajama bottoms, pushing them down past her hips. As beautiful as her body is, it’s her face I can’t stop watching. The intensity in her eyes, a look that says nothing else existing for her in this moment but me. I run my hand down her thigh, as I take her pajamas off, holding them in my hand for a moment before dropping them off the side of the bed. Completely naked, exposed and vulnerable underneath me. Closing my eyes for a second as I take off my sweats, the beauty of her too much to bear.
The flutter of nervousness, as I reach for a condom from the nightstand drawer. I can’t help but feel a little awkward, it’s been a long time for this. Jeanette props herself up on her elbows, watching me struggle with the wrapper for a moment, before sitting up. My hands are still slick from making her come. Her tongue flicks over my nipple, just a quick pass, before she looks up at me. Her hand a slow caress over my shaft, before she lies back again.
Settling back between her thighs, my head resting against her entrance. The second draws out as we both watch each other, nervousness and desire. I haven’t made love to a woman in over a year and a half. I haven’t made love to a woman other than my wife since I was sixteen. I haven’t wanted a woman so deeply as I want Jeanette right now. Ever.
Her mouth opens in a perfect O as I enter her, a sharp intake of breath, her hips bucking up with the exhale, taking me in fully, slowly. Her sharp cry growing wild underneath at the bottom as she gasps for another breath, her nails digging into my shoulders, to pull me closer or to push me away, I doubt even she knew. My voice is raw, and hoarse, her name the only word I know, whispered into her neck, as I withdraw, rocking my hips back into her.
I wanted to ask her if I had hurt her, if it was too much, if I should stop. I wanted to, but the only thing I could say was “Jeanette”. Her sharp cries growing louder, and higher, with every stroke into her. The delicious heat of her, so tight, so wet, her hips rising to mine, as our need overtook our desire to go slow.
Her breath coming in hard pants, every exhale a scream, muffled against my shoulder, before I kissed her hard. Everything in her clenching as she came. Breaking the kiss to bury my face in her neck stifling my own cry, my hips bucking hard into her with the force of my own orgasm.
“Sean..” Her voice is shaky, whispering my name in my ear.
Her tears are silver trails at the corners of her eyes, “‘Nette? Did I hurt you?” Oh please, don’t let me have hurt her.
She shakes her head, grinning at me as her arms slip around my neck, pulling me to kiss her, her tears drying on my hands as I tell her over and over that I love her.
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