He stood in the doorway of the empty house and scanned the bare floors and walls. The feeling was alien, unsettling. Ghosts of memories haunted every corner of the room and threatened to overwhelm him.
Slowly he walked around the room, taking in the scene one last time. The carpet was vacuumed, shampooed. His eyes scanned over slightly darker sections where a glass of wine had spilt, where a cup of coffee had fallen. There were indentations where the feet of the couch had been.
Ah, the couch. It was gone now, nothing left but those indentations. Not even the dust bunnies which had made a warren under there remained. Even so, the faint ghostly image of the couch rematerialized in his mind in the same spot. Lying upon it... was her.
She lay there, sleeping. Her robe had fallen open, her breast and nipple visible in the soft light, her white panties barely seen through the parting of the bottom.
His memory replayed like a movie. Standing next to her, he lowered his hand to her mound on top of the panties. Her crotch was warm; she didn't awake.
The stirring in his groin snapped him back to reality. Getting turned on right now was just wrong, so wrong. He looked up at the ceiling trying to fight back the tears. No, he wouldn't cry. That would just be too insulting to add to the injury. He wouldn't let him. He just wouldn't.
He looked back down at the memory and saw her lying there. He watched the replay of his memory like a detached observer. It quelled his threatening erection and he allowed himself to remember.
His fingers had slid across her pussy lips, feeling the soft cotton of the panties underneath his fingertips. She breathed deep but still did not wake up. He couldn't believe his luck. His other hand reached down to caress the swell of her breast with the back of his other hand. It was so smooth, smoother than any skin he had ever felt. His fingers just touched her with the barest of touch.
Her pussy was starting to respond even while she slept. Moisture arose through the soft cotton, and he could smell the beginnings of her arousal. While he focused his attention on her breast, he felt her hand touch the one at her pussy. He glanced down and saw her move his fingers to the waistband and push them underneath. Looking at her face, he watched as she slowly opened her eyes and smiled at him.
"Hello," she said. Her pussy was soaked under his touch.
The vision vanished. He realized he had closed his eyes at some point, and now he opened them to a watery perspective once more of the indentations on the carpet. Again, he looked up to the ceiling, as if he could roll back the tears into the ducts.
No, he mustn't. He mustn't cry.
He felt numb. Was this what shock felt like? He couldn't tell. He didn't think he'd ever been in shock before. How could he know?
He walked into the bedroom, half expecting to see the bedroom furniture there but knowing that it wasn't. Similar to the couch, the ghostly bed rematerialized in the forefront of his mind, and he wandered around the perimeter of where the bed used to be, not allowing himself to cross the boundary that used to be the edge of the bed.
Before he could stop himself, the images flooded into his mind. They flickered like an old-time nickelodeon, fluttering images of her sleeping, of her sitting on the edge of the bed blowing him, of her being tied up at the bedposts, of him grabbing her ass and fucking her from behind. Image after image of increasing sexual intensity ran rampant through his brain before finally stopping at the most recent memory.
They lay side by side in the bed, naked. She was playing with his semi-hard cock after having fucked him hard.
"I have to tell you something," he had said. She looked at him. "I have to go to a client meeting up north for about three days. I just wanted to tell you because I don't know how well I'll get Internet or cell reception because I've never been there before."
"What are you saying?" she said, concern in her voice. "Are you not going to be able to pick me up?"
He laughed, and brushed the hair from her face. "Oh, no!" he said, reassuringly. "I'm telling you this now so that you won't worry. I'll be there."
"Okay," she said, not convinced.
"Look," he said. "I know that we've only been seeing each other for 3 months. But you have to trust me."
She smiled weakly, her beautiful blonde hair pressed against the side of her face as she cocked her head. "Perhaps I should ask someone else to get me at the airport."
"Why?" he asked. "I'll be back in time, I promise." She still looked doubtful. "Even if I have to get rolled in on a gurney I'll be there," he said, laughing.
She laughed too, and kissed him while squeezing his cock. Already he was growing hard again.
"You're sure?" she asked.
"Absolutely," he said.
She leaned up to kiss him, and cupped his balls. "Okay," she said, with more confidence.
His cock grew in her hand. "Mmmm," she purred. "Can I suck you again?"
She had to ask?
"Suck me, babe," he whispered.
She moved down between his legs and took his hardening cock between both hands. She took the tip in his mouth and her eyes widened in joy, as if she had just tasted a sweet. "Oh, I love tasting myself on you," she cooed, and then engulfed him yet again.
As he watched her head bob up and down, he realized how little he knew her. This gorgeous woman came out of nowhere, seemingly absolutely perfect for him. She loved everything he loved, wanted everything he wanted, was absolutely insatiable. Somehow she had found a way to let him drop his fortress-type internal walls and let her in.
Her eyes released his and she closed them and took him completely in her mouth, her hand wrapping around his smoothly shaven balls and caressed them in her palm. She hummed softly, sending vibrations through his dick and making him squirm.
