Amy and Max enter the front door, laden with grocery bags and videos. It's dark and chilly. Max turns on lights, revealing pieces of the wide open floor plan with each.
Flick – gleaming oak floors beneath a floating oak staircase. Flick – a large wooden dining room table under a hanging light. Flick, a sunken sitting area focused on a flagged stone fireplace. Flick – an open kitchen with a bar to sit at. The back wall of the room is made entirely of large plate glass windows that reach from the floor to the ceiling.
"It's forever wild back there. No one can develop it. It backs right on to the park" He says it casually as they put down their bags.
"It's a beautiful house!"
"Yeah," Max sounds sad. Amy knows why. It's her house.
"She's an idiot," Amy says
"It's just hard..." Max trails off.
"I know. Why did you agree to sit the place? I don't think I could handle it,"
"I'm still friends with her mom and brother. They wanted me to. Besides, it buys us a night alone together," Max is smiling down at her, trying to hide the hurt unsuccessfully.
Amy wraps her arms around his waist and pulls him in for a kiss. He returns it, warm but distracted. She makes idle chit chat: work, school, movies, friends. Max listens and responds but is a little distant. His replies come at a delay.
They arrange their take out dinners on plates in the kitchen area and bring it over to the coffee table in the sitting area, picnic style. He pops in a silly movie that he'd wanted her to see. She retrieves the bottle of vodka and jug orange juice that he purchased with two glasses.
They eat and watch in silence. Neither of them are really paying much attention to it. Max's eyes catch on places around the open space. Amy's follow them. He's remembering, she thinks. She feels so sad for him. She knows exactly how he feels. Scooped out and hollow. Empty. Not real.
It's written on his face as much as it is on hers. They seem to be the only ones that recognize it in each other. They both mention their friends' helpful comments ruefully. Max's least favorite is, "Still?" Amy's is "You're doing so well!" They agree that people can be really stupid sometimes.
Max mixes two drinks and hands one to her. He sips absently. He hasn't touched much of his food. He looks lost and far away. Amy takes a big gulp and decides she's going to make him feel better.
Amy pushes the coffee table back and kneels before him. Max starts to speak, probably to tell her she doesn't have to. He always says that. He is so kind. She shakes her head and smiles at him.
Her hands glide up his thighs to his belt. She undoes the buckle deliberately. Slowly she unsnaps and unzips him, gingerly pulling everything down. He's completely hard, the anticipation was enough.
Max shifts slightly to aid her progress but makes no other move. His hands are on either side of him; bracing himself. His breath comes fast and he shuts his eyes.
Amy licks, playful and light, tracing the tip with her tongue. Her hand grazes his balls and he groans. She smiles and continues. She takes her time.
She licks every inch without taking him entirely in her mouth, gently caressing with her hand all the while. She's learned by now that he likes to be teased.
Max's hands grip the sofa cushions, twisting and kneading the upholstery. When she feels she's done enough preliminarily, she gobbles him up swiftly till he reaches the back of her throat. His body goes as rigid as his sex, poised for more.
Max becomes more vocal. Complimenting, urging her on, he moans out "Oh God you're so good!"
Amy sucks and licks with broad, forceful strokes. She's done teasing him and is settling to the task in earnest. Her head works up and down upon him furiously. In very little time her mouth fills with the hot, salty fluid as he yells out his last.
Amy rises from him with a little satisfied smile. She took his mind off it for a while, anyway. He looks spent, relaxed and grateful. This is first time the tension has left him since he picked her up tonight.
"Thank you. You didn't have to..." smiling down at her
"You never make me feel like I have to. It's not your style." Amy smiles back at him.
"Can I do anything for you?"
"In a bit."
Max rearranges his clothes, zipping back up. Once he sits back down Amy gets up and kneels on the couch next to him, perched slightly above. She opens her arms to him and he leans in.
He places his head on her breast and his arms wrap around her, clasping her to him. She strokes his hair and kisses the top of his head. They rock slowly together.
The voices from the movie echo through the cavernous downstairs. They don't pay attention. Max's eyes are closed. Amy's are on his face, it's drawn with pain again. She comforts him as best she can. Its no more that what he's done for her. They've been consoling one another since they began this, whatever it is. They take turns.
Max's hands start to roam. His face turns up to hers and he smiles at her, leering a bit. He's ready for more. Amy smiles back, wickedly.
He peels her shirt up off of her and tosses it lightly aside. She holds his gaze and takes off her bra, throwing it on top of the shirt he just dropped. His smile hasn't wavered and his face is still level with her breasts. He pulls her into him and suckles lightly, gently.
Max's mouth is on one breast, sucking and pulling on her nipple lightly with his teeth. His hand is on the other handling her expertly, pinching, rolling, kneading. He sends chills shooting through her. His touch makes her arch her back and suck in her breath. The warm, familiar wetness is upon her. She spreads her knees apart, hoping he'll caress her.
He stops and pulls her to her feet. He begins to undress and she follows suit. They stand before each other, completely naked. She moves in and kisses him. His lips are insistent, kissing her hard and taking her breath away.
His hand pushes into the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. The other runs over the length of her body, up and down, front and back. Her skin feels sweetly burned with the impression of it.
His skin feels soft over his hard body. She presses in to him, her breasts rub up against his chest, the sensitive nipples aching for him to touch her again. His rigid, thickness pokes into her belly, nudging her.
Max takes Amy up in his arms; one arm under her back, one beneath her knees. She twines her arms around his neck and they kiss deeply and slowly. He lays her out on the couch and continues what he started.
Max kneels beside her, burning her up with his languid kisses. His hands are strong and large. They move confidently over her, spreading her legs apart. His fingers toy with her delicately, slow and light.
She arches up moving with him to increase the speed and pressure. She is hungry for him and not in control of herself. He is far more self possessed although his arousal is obvious.
He moves his hand downward, tickling her inner thigh with his fingertips and looks down at her, grinning. She lets out a little mew of disappointment.
"Something wrong?" Max's voice comes in a low rumble, the usual tone he adopts at these times. His smile is devilish, his eyes are warm.
"You're such a tease!" Amy pants out in an exasperated whisper.
