.3

Hi there! This is part three of the first chapter of this character's story. Feel free to hit the other two chapters first if you like. And don't forget to rate and leave a comment if you'd like.

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A highball of tapwater with ice. A rocks glass with bourbon and ice. Sloan took a healthy drink of the water and tried to swish the semen from her mouth without him noticing.

He noticed.

"Do you want to use the bathroom." he smiled. She liked his smile. It was genuine and kind.

"Yes, thank you." she gushed a little grateful for his offer which released the tension. She grabbed her drinks and walked to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her.

"There's a robe hanging on the door if you want to use it." he said through the door. "Uh...I'll meet you in the uh...bedroom." Bedroom pitched up like a question. She sipped the bourbon quickly before responding.

"Yeah...sounds good." She checked her phone. A note from Dani: "OK?"

"Yes...all is well. Maybe an hour?" Sloan looked at her face, lipstick smeared a bit...still ghost traces of her efforts on her chin...eyeliner drooping a little but still in place. She shed the dress and soaked the worst of the spots. Dabbed at the little ones with a washcloth. She finished swishing and spit into the sink. Another long sip of the bourbon and she took a deep breath.

The glow of the alcohol washed its first haze over her perception. She wondered if other people reacted this quickly. This was the level she liked the most. When the facts and sentences and numbers and measurements that scrolled through her mind would begin to take their place in the background. She could focus. She took a deep breath and took off her bra and hung it next to the dress drying on a hook on the wall.

The robe hung on her like a tent and she tied it loosely. Her chest was exposed...a V of white flesh cut by brown softness. "Way better than earlier." she thought in her head. She grabbed the glass, opened the V a bit more and opened the door.

She stopped at the doorway to his bedroom and viewed him sitting shirtless in his bed. Any other setting, this would have been presumptuous and she would have turned and run. But she was here for this. She thought..."a sexy pose...shall I lean? The Riker Lean? (a reference to the Star Trek sex symbol who showed his masculine dominance by leaning over the female characters)" But she just leaned with her shoulder and sipped another draw of the whiskey...now watered down.

"Hi." she grinned. "You look good."

And he did to her. He was more muscular than she'd first assessed. Not in a ripped-in-the-gym sort of way but in a naturally strong sort of way. The room was utterly utilitarian with bed, no headboard or footboard, dresser, mirror and closet. His pillows were propped against the wall and there was only a nightstand on his side with a lamp. He slept here, he didn't entertain here. She sauntered, feeling the robe, too big for her, brushing against her feet. He patted the space next to him to invite her but she walked to his side of the bed and climbed astride him. "Thank you for the whiskey."

"You liked it?" he asked, wondering if she had advanced tastes. It was Jim Beam and it was on sale.

"It's whiskey...I'm no expert." she smiled and leaned with her hands on her chest.

His hands moved to her wrists and he pushed his fingers up the sleeves.

"That robe looks gigantic on you." he smiled again. She shifted her hips.

"Yeah, it's like wearing a futon, but I appreciate it." she leaned down and kissed him gently. Fingers coarsed up the sleeves of the robe, her arms and his arms still having enough room to move. His motions pulled the robe from her shoulders.

She felt the coolness of the air on her exposed back and the warm smoothness of the sheet that separated her from his body. Her newly mellowed mind still calculated the differences between his body and her ex-husband's. The width of his hips between her thighs. The obvious difference in his penis size (not that her ex-husband's was small...its just...THIS guy) how his chest sloped up. Different angles and curves to adjust to. And her body adjusted quickly.

As such, she arched her back and the robe cascaded down and they worked their arms from within it. Outside city sounds. Inside, she moaned.

He watched her as her hips moved, eyes closed and her face rested in concentration. Her movements, grinding herself into him pushed the sheet down until her flesh was touching his. This is when she pushed herself forward.

In this moment, she forgot all of the forceful, terrible attempts at touching her. Teenage hands shoved down her jeans in cars in high-school. An overzealous dorm room roommate on a drunken dare that rubbed her like she was cleaning her stove. Her ex husband's drunken fingers plunging. She rocked forward and grazed herself gently across Trevor's cock that was still coming back to life. She was in control. He simply watched and listened and adjusted to her, applying pressure gradually. Her rocking was deliberate. It changed speeds. It changed angle and velocity...he let her know her body. Before long, her rocking seemed to focus just in her hips and transform into a shudder. He felt the unmistakable warmth of a trickle and she gasped.

She buried her face in his neck and she whispered, "Thank you."

He chuckled, "Heh, no problem." he almost added, "I didn't do anything." but he didn't think this was the moment. She caught her breath and after a repeat of three more of these she hovered above him smiling. She reached down between her legs and re positioned him and leaned back onto his cock.

Farther back in her mind, the historic accounting that constantly ticked off numeric data was having trouble communicating through the haze of alcohol and endorphines. But Sloan could still hear. "To date, this is the sixth person you have had sexual intercourse with. Once again, the first one this year." And among the other thoughts, the one that was most prominent in in her mind was, "This one knows what he's doing."

She rocked back. She rocked forward. Time swirled and undid itself, mixing moments on top of moments. His groan. The feel of his flesh in her grip. The room flashing before her eyes. The sound of him crashing into her. Wet sounds and moans and gasps. She barely noticed when they rolled to the center of the bed, his hand on her chest, kneading her breasts as he knelt between her legs and drew out shudders and splashes and cries.

She could still feel the coolness of his cum in her pubic hair as she walked out the front door of his apartment.

"Maybe you'll call me?" he asked. She simply turned and waved.

After the walk back, Dr. Sloan Elliott stood in front of Dani and three empty glasses at a booth near the bar at Bennigans.

"The only thing that separates Bennigans from Long John Silvers is these appletinis are delicious." Dani spotted the grey shadow stains on Sloan's hem...the ones by her collar were covered by a scarf. "What in the name of Monica Lewinsky did you DO? Jesus, sit down before someone sees."

"Hi, Dani. Thanks for asking."

Dani waved their arm in the air to call a server. The conversation did not resume until a glass of white wine was served. Sloan sipped it slowly, refreshing the already rusting buzz from the whiskey.

"So I take it by the state of your hair and your dress that things went well?"

"Yeah." Sloan sipped again. "Do you require details?"

"Really, no." Dani smiled. "Did you have a good time?" all the judgement in Dani's voice was gone.

"Yeah...he was nice. A gentleman. And deeply satisfying." Sloan let that last phrase curl like a wisp of smoke to indicate a visceral level of satisfaction.

"So are you going to make a habit out of these little trysts or is this just your divorcee' freak out?"

"I don't know Dani. I just don't see a long term thing on my wishlist right now. I need to think about me."

Dani nodded their head to show they understood. "Will you be responsible enough to let me drive you home?"

"Yes please. Maybe after another glass of wine?"