Nuzzling, nibbling, and stroking my neck with his lips, Drew's fingertips slid down my back to the hem of my sweater. With the slowness of a snail, they eased up the knitted fabric, then rested hot and hard against the small of my back. The ticking of the wall clock I'd recently hung in the kitchen and the soft murmur of something dramatic on the television sounded particularly loud. My throat sang with tension and pleasure, Drew's lips playing me like a prodigy manipulating their preferred instrument. It wasn't easy to suppress my urge to moan with building waves of bliss, but somehow, I managed.
Without warning, past memories of us in this very position intermingled with what I was presently experiencing. Drew and I kissing outside my old apartment door, wanting to continue the explorations of each other's bodies with our lips and tongues but prevented from doing so by the presence of my very conservative room mate.
How sweet it had been to share kisses like this under May's full moon, the dogwood trees in our apartment courtyard in bloom, moonlight frosting the ivory petals and dancing in Drew's eyes. We'd kissed under that star-strewn sky as if we were the only ones left in the world. At that moment, it felt as if that could very well be true, but we didn't care.
Now, teetering on the precipice of solitude and a life separate from his, this felt desperate and wrong. I wanted to stop. Wished I could push him away with firm hands and indignant rebukes. All I could do was lay limp in his arms as his lips sealed our mouths and hearts with a painfully sweet kiss.
If I had been able to breathe properly, I would have analyzed his taste. My entire body was absorbing and processing. The psychiatry student in me was ticking off all the signals of vulnerability I was giving and his attempts to compensate for them by offering strength and reassurance. My body, trained by seven months of his expert touch, was responding despite my mental desires. Between us, my stiffening nipples pushed painfully against my bra, the warm tingling almost painfully intense as he tilted his head, his tongue delving deeper into my mouth.
The scent of snow still lingered in his hair and I was shivering. From cold, lust, or heartache I could not say. Fingertips eased up and down my spine, soothing me into an anxious arch against him. My own fingers twined in the little hairs at the nape of his neck and he moaned, pressing his forearms against me and pulling me closer, his groin against mine. And as I knew it would be, his cock was already hard from our kisses and caresses. When I tried to pull away, he broke the kiss to stroke my cheek with cool fingertips, his eyes asking... No... Begging me for this last bit of heaven between us.
"I can't." The words, choked and painful, fell from my lips. Drew's lips brushed my cheek, my lashes, and my brow. I tried to offer a response but could only stare through wide eyes as his hands fell to the zip and button of my pants.
I was the chrysalis being unwillingly pried from the safety and darkness of the cocoon I constructed to hide from the world. My transformation into the carefree butterfly healed from the tragedy of our mutual loss was nowhere near complete. But his fingers peeled away the softness of my sweater, gently easing it down the silken tendrils of my hair. The cold of this space didn't touch me. I was trying to retreat back into the numbness that had recently served me so well, but he drew me out as he always did.
My small bottom bumped against the countertop, the cool surface pressing against my thighs for an instant before Drew had me in his arms, his shirt rubbing against my bare skin as the tears began to roll down my cheeks in greater profusion. I looked up and tumbled into his eyes an instant before he fell to kissing me once again.
Love was such a dual instrument of ecstasy and agony. Kisses scalded my heart and cradled my soul, but I couldn't push him away though I longed to do so. He was all soft musky cologne, skin smoothed over muscular abs under my fingertips, and sandpapery stubble against my cheek as I hooked my thumbs into the belt loops of his pants. Of course, they slid down his narrow hips with no resistance, as did his boxers a second later. And though I knew how our story would end, I needed to reaffirm it by touch, sight, taste, and smell. I didn't want to hear anything. No confessions of regret. No declarations of undying love. Not even the guttural groan that foretold the coming of Drew's own thunderous crescendo.
God, his skin was perfect. Resting my head against his chest was instantly soothing, and I recalled long ago winter afternoons identical to this one where I'd done nothing else but cuddle with him and sip cocoa as we snuggled, serenaded by Jeff Buckley. And as a lyric in one of my favorite of his songs so eloquently put it, he would be the tear that hangs inside my soul forever.
"Are you cold?" His mouth was right under my ear, the richness of the words vibrating my very being. "Here..." His arms were sure and tight around my shoulders, and my fingertips traced the definition of his shoulder blades.
Drew's hot length pushed against my thigh, as he pressed closer, cupping my ass to force my body closer to his, the heat of his skin washing over me like an aura as his stiff shaft reiterated his need against my inner thigh. Oh God, I was going to drown in tears and tension. He smelled so good. Clean and sensual from the weather and soap... My whimper refused to be swallowed back and with its escape went any last bit of resolve.
The moment we were sharing pushed everything else away. My nipples stung from need as my breasts pushed against his chest. The fine sprinkling of hair there buffered my cheek while my fingertips found and rubbed the silken flesh of his cock. I knew the trace of every vein just beneath the skin, the way he'd shudder when my index finger gently circled the velvety tip, and predicted the first drops of precome that would coalesce from the tiny opening there, slipping onto my fingertips to be softly rubbed up and down the underside of the shaft. Drew twitched in my embrace, hands rising to my shoulders to pull me from him so his mouth could ravenously seek the stiff peaks of my nipples.
Warmth and wetness surrounded my left nipple, and the hot flick of his tongue made me shiver. I held his cock in a tightening grip, pumping the hard length with just enough friction to make his hips start a gentle cadence. My left nipple sang with heat and cold as he left it to suckle my right, tingles flooding my breasts and urging my pussy into covetous contractions of need. Drew's teeth pinched my flesh and I gasped, nails of my free hand digging into his shoulders. With that, he stopped pulling on my breast and urged me all the way back on the countertop, capturing my hips in his hands and drawing me close. Drew leaned forward, the point of his cock pushing slowly but relentlessly into the slippery silk of my churning sex, our trembling simultaneous.
Yes. The pressure of his sides against my calves would be just... here... I pressed my legs against him, secure in his unflagging strength. And though he always tried to go easy, the moment I felt him sliding deep inside was the moment I took a shaky breath. I deserved to see the love in his eyes. We'd done such an excellent job of masking our passions for each other lately that the least he owed me was to give me this moment freely and completely. And as I parted my lids just a crack to see how shadow painted his face, the desire and adoration in his eyes seized my heart.
"Hold me, Drew. Please..." my words were frantic and his cock was suddenly demanding, pushing deep inside me with the ease of my wetness and the subtle sound of slippery secretions and thrusting flesh. "Just this last time... Please hold me."
Arms strong as steel slid under my shoulders, and I reached up to cling to him as he worked his hips and I slammed downward, his cock filling me and pounding hard against my womb, each thrust making me sigh sweet sounds against his neck. His hands were warm and reassuring against my waist as I rode his cock, feeling it bringing me closer and closer to orgasm but not quite close enough until I shifted slightly, getting pressure right up against my g-spot. I gasped and he winced as my nails dug shallow crescents into his shoulders.
"Come on, Lucienne. Come, baby..."
A juicy explosion stole my breath and detonated millions of tingling aftershocks throughout my body, my head back and lips parted in perfect breathlessness. Drew groaned, roughly grabbing my ass and forcing me down harder on his cock until I was practically screaming in overly intense bliss. God damn, but his dick rammed hard enough to hurt. With a moan, we fell back, he on top of me as his hips slammed against my thighs, cock throbbing violently before I felt the sudden hot burst of come deep inside me, squirting out hard enough to seep around the base of his cock and run down my splayed thighs. We lay perfectly still in the aftermath of our heartache and lust, neither of us daring to disturb the tenuous bond we'd achieved.
The rhythmic calming of our breathing let in the ambient noise from the rest of the apartment, and with its return came the reality of us. We, who in a matter of moments, would separate into Drew and I. Right now, we were joined in body, spirit, and heart. But the cleaving had to come, and the break would be clean and gentle. Was it wrong to think of a tiny ember of hope glowing amid the clean and gentle? Probably. But surely as day follows night, I felt that tiny fire still hitching contraband breaths in my heart. Drew was sliding out of my body and life, but he knew where I was if he ever wanted to build our sparks to flames, and those sparks would not be vanquished. Not in the solitary depths of winter, and never in the memories my mind and body forged and cherished.
Finis.
