This is a repost of an old romance story with a new edit.
Chapter 8
Sherry’s orgasm bounced like a skipping stone, one diminishing peak after another, and then the final splash. Her overloaded senses didn’t identify the moisture on her face, until a drop fell on her lips. Reawakened taste buds recognized the saltiness of a tear.
Sam hid his face in the pillow, and said, "Thank you."
Unsure of what happened, she hugged him, and crossed her legs over his back to hold him as close as humanly possible. Running her fingers through his damp hair, she felt a surge of panic. A man had never cried in her arms before, for any reason. Now Sam, the man she loved, was reduced to tears after sex. “Are you all right, Honey?”
A husky voice, muffled in the pillow, said, “I can’t remember the last time I felt so right.”
The remark swept away her fear with warm tenderness, this poignant moment dearer than the physical pleasure. Her love had released a flood of emotion from his soul. Hope of a lifetime swelled within her. She whispered endearments, allowing him time to regain composure, and then sang in a small voice, "You make me feel like a natural woman."
Sam rose up on his elbows. “I’m such a mess. Are you sure you want me?”
She smiled. “Yes, I’m sure.”
The separation of their torsos let the air conditioner blow a cool breeze across their sweaty chests.
Smiling down, enraptured by the vision, Sam said, "You're an angel sent to show me life is worth living, aren't you."
"Yes." She squeezed her thighs around him, and said, "Call me Clarence, if you like."
His lips pressed her throat, creating a pleasant tingle as he nuzzled in. Sherry lifted her chin and turned her head to encourage him.
Between kisses, Sam said, "What was that line from the movie? Was it: 'When a woman has an orgasm an angel gets his wings'?"
"That's right." Sherry rubbed his back. "And you gave out some supersonic wings today, Baby," then pulled his lips to hers for heavenly punctuation.
Sweet minutes passed as they lay entwined, and satisfied.
Sherry pressed her cheek against his, and said, “Sam, you know what I’ve learned from you?”
“You learned I don’t want a cucumber up my ass.”
She laughed, and said, “Okay, that’s true, but not what I was thinking.”
From behind her ear, he asked, “What else did you learn?”
Massaging his scalp, she replied, “I’m not frigid, like Bob said. I love sex with you. And not once did I even think about faking an orgasm. I didn’t have to.”
Sam lifted his head to look at her. With a broad smile and liquid eyes, he said, “Sherry, that’s got to be one of the best compliments I’ve ever heard,” and hugged her tight.
A tickle inside told Sherry his penis had shrunk, and the confluence of their climax began to leak out. "I need to use the bathroom."
Sam reached over to the nightstand, retrieved a hand full of tissues, and withdrew.
She groaned at the quick separation.
After laying some tissues on her stomach, he wiped himself dry, and said, "I hope we didn’t stain your quilt."
"Maybe I want it stained. Then I’d have DNA evidence that you were actually here," she said, mopping up the wet spot.
"If you want, I’ll give you another sample ASAP," he said, grinning from the bedside.
Sherry got up and swayed her hips all the way to the closet. "We'll see.”
Years ago, to pamper herself, she'd purchased a silk kimono. Until now, no one had ever seen her wear it. Slipping on the extravagant jade-green fabric, she twirled for Sam. The short hem lifted to expose her legs all the way up. “You like?”
His face glowed with approval. "My kind of gift wrap. You are totally phat."
She stepped into the hallway, shot him a torrid smile, and said, "Don't go anywhere, Dude," then closed the bedroom door.
