He Said She Said Ch 07

I am trying something different with these stories. Instead of writing a single narrative, I have written 10 vignettes from a relationship. Each chapter alternates between the point of view of the two main characters and is written as if talking to the other person.

In addition, I have written each chapter as a quickie; all of the stories are 1,000 words or less, which is something of a challenge for me. They take place in chronological order, although there may be days, weeks or months between chapters.

Please let me know what you think of this style by leaving a comment or send me feedback via email.

Enjoy!

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He Said

Muscles I didn't know I have ache.

You are pressed back against me. My arm is draped around your waist. My spent cock is nestled between the cheeks of your perfect ass.

Normally, Mr. Happy would be up and ready to go, but you wore him out last night.

Our bed is a mess. The comforter is on the floor somewhere. I had to find the top sheet and blanket in the middle of the night.

The votive on the nightstand burned itself out.

Your naked body is warm against mine.

The sun is up and shining through the curtains of the apartment.

Our apartment.

Four months into our second round of dating, your lease was up for renewal. I was month to month.

So we decided to take the next step in our relationship.

After bribing our friends with pizza and beer, we got our collective belongings moved into the new place. The only thing we put together is your sturdy, wrought-iron bed. Everything else is still stacked up or in boxes.

I don't even know where to find a change of clothes.

But it doesn't matter.

I've got you.

Our relationship isn't perfect. We even had our first big blow-out fight a couple of months ago. It was over something stupid, but we got through it.

And now we live together.

There's a part of me that wonders what the hell I'm thinking. My parents are both twice divorced. Historically, I run or sabotage myself at the first sign of actual feelings.

I did it before with you.

What changed?

Who the fuck knows?

Waking up with you just seems so . . . right.

You are a saint for putting up with my shit. We are polar opposites.

You're the nitpicker and the anal-retentive planner. You have a budget.

I write checks when I need to and hope there is money to cover them.

You have a sense of style and good taste.

My only furniture is a couch, TV stand and a bed.

Am I a 'project' for you? Lord, I hope not.

Some days, I don't know what you see in me.

Yet here we are: living together in a reasonable facsimile of domestic bliss. We both have jobs that pay well with opportunities for advancement.

You stir a few minutes later.

I roll you over on your back and kiss you through the morning breath.

My hand cups your big breast. Your nipple hardens when I pinch it.

"You stink," you giggle and push me away when I move to spread your legs.

"I smell like you," I playfully grab at your backside when you slip out of the bed.

"I have to pee," your sly smile suggests great things should I follow.

As you bend over to start the shower, I playfully hump up against your butt. You swat at me without threat.

The warm water pours over us. We both empty our bladders down the drain. You make a point of spraying a little bit on my leg.

My hands linger on your body under the pretense of bathing.

We kiss and you rub your soapy tits against my chest.

You gasp into my mouth when I brush the swollen nub of your clit with my fingers.

I press you up to the cool tile wall.

"Spread your legs." I reach for the shower wand. Water from the ring continues to fall upon us.

I toggle the head into a single stream and point it at your steaming sex. You convulse with pleasure as I alternate between diddling you and spraying you.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," you moan when I suck your nipple in my mouth.

Your hands dig into my hair as I build you up.

I release your tit from my mouth and we kiss. You tilt your head back as I press my lips to yours. Our tongues duel.

You shudder from head to toe when I switch the shower head from the steady stream to the massage pulse.

"Fucking shit!" you cry out. I have to lean against you to keep you from falling over. "I'm cumming . . . I'm . . . cumming . . ."

Your voice trails off when your eyes glaze over. You steady yourself against the wall. I turn the shower head back to the rainfall and return it to the ring.

I take in your body in all of its naked glory. Your sweet, beautiful face framed by your strawberry blonde locks. Your heavy, round breasts. The delightful pooch of your belly. Your soft, wide hips.

And nestled between the thighs that I love to have wrapped around my head is your sweet pussy. It's swollen under the hot water and from your recent orgasm.

I spent all night inside you, and I would be content to spend the rest of my days embedded within your heavenly folds.

"Should I eat you or fuck you?" I whisper in your ear.

"Why not both?" your eyes are hooded over with pleasure.

I smile and drop to my knees under the running water. You lift your leg, giving me full access to your lovely sex.

You orgasm once more in my mouth, screaming out my name. It's a good thing we got an apartment on the end of building so the neighbours won't complain about our fucking.

Once I let you down from the cum, I stand, and you guide my hard cock inside you.

Pressing against the shower wall, I thrust up inside you.

"Fuck me," you purr. "Cum inside me."

I don't last long.

We snuggle up to one another as we recover. I turn the water off. You hand me a towel and we dry each other.

I can never tire of seeing your beautiful naked body.

"That is a wonderful way to wake up," you wink. "Let's go back to bed."

By nightfall, we've christened every room in the apartment.

And broken in the new couch.