Aaahhh... Fuc.

It could have gone so many ways.

We spent the past week apart fighting with every breath. At times fighting for each other, at times fighting each other. Now, he stood there. Barely an arm's length away, I felt the tension pass by every second. All the arguments culminated to this - a silent exchange of everything left unsaid. I don't even remember what we spent the days arguing for. All I knew was that at that moment, I didn't know anything else except him.

"Peggy..." he breathed.

His hands were on me. I felt my fingers trembling at his touch.

/I'm sorry/ they whispered. /I missed you/

A tear rebelled beyond whatever remaining strands of stubbornness I had left, defiantly rolling down my cheeks.

He pulled me close and before I could react, his lips were on mine. My body melted with relief. His lips were familiar, sweet, safe. My heart burst into exclamation marks, and if anyone happened upon us, they would hear the wordless prayer screaming through my veins.

His arms wrapped tighter around my back, gripping the gently dip around my waist line. My hands instinctively wove themselves around his neck, leaving their frantic trail along his arms. My fingers ran themselves restless through his hair and down his cheek.

Before I could begin to formulate anything, his lips left mine, taking my breath with them. They found themselves a new project, collaborating with his teeth and tongue to tease and torment the exposed flesh of my neck. I struggled to breathe, barely even able to moan. My body betrayed my will for coherency and control. My back arched, and I bent myself towards him as an offering.

Slowly, his hands found their way to my waist, and to the hem line of my shirt. He paused from his ministrations, a question perched on the pulsing pink flush of his lips.

"Yes"

His lips found mine and stole another kiss. He inched forward, forcing me to back until I stumbled into the bed. Falling on top of me, my shirt was wrestled out of me, leaving me clad in my skirt and bra. The skirt did little for my modesty while my legs parted like the rivers that flowed between them.

I was mad with desire, reaching, desperately drinking in the exposed skin meeting my own. Each point of contact was a prayer, a confession, an apology. Each was answered with another.

His pants came undone, and I quickly lowered them to his knees. Our bodies demanded no more hesitation. With one last kiss, he pushed me back into the pillows. His hand found its way to my parted legs, fingers gently dancing around the folds of my dripping sex. His eyes flew wider. The same look of surprise warmed I've come to memorise over our time together warmed his face. His forehead pressed against mine, while my chin tilted itself to let my mouth search for his.

He took his time, his hands reacquainting themselves with the slippery folds. My mind began to wage war on itself. While appreciative of the slick ballet between my legs, I felt my usual insecurities building up. I found myself anxiously wondering if I shaved enough, if I was still tight despite my wetness, if my clit felt too big under his attentions. A finger slipped itself inside of me, stealing a quick yelp of surprise.

His eyes never left mine as he replaced his hand with the tip of his length. It bobbed gently around my clit, coming to a rest right outside of my pussy. I was throbbing, begging. My hands reached up to pull him down for another kiss.

He took that opportunity and plunged himself fully inside of me.

My fingers dug into his back in shock. Even after all this time, his girth still overwhelmed me. My back arched, and curled itself, absorbing the shock of the welcome invader. I held him as close as I could against me. My whimpers turned into moans as he gently eased himself out until just the tip rested inside of me.

And then he plunged again, stealing another moan from my throat.

He began to piston himself in and out of me. Gently and slowly at first until he was completely drenched in me, gradually increasing his speed. His hands never left my body as his hips slammed repeatedly into mine.

My legs wrapped themselves around his, pushing against the bed with each inserting thrust of his to meet with mine. With each thrust, he buried himself inside of me.

My nipples ached against the friction of him on top of me, I wriggled beneath him, rotating my hips around his as he continued to channel his efforts into the climax. He rolled around, eager to find my G spot. His efforts weren't in vain. I felt it slam deep within me, building up warmth and pressure and I could no longer contain myself.

I wrapped my arms around him and came, forming a wide puddle beneath us. Instead of alternating his speed, he continued. If possible, only much faster. He pressed feverish lips against me, until the last few strokes came and he burst himself inside of me.

He rolled off, gently peeling himself from the caverns of my legs, and pulled me close beside him.

My mind teased the edges of my memories from here on with a white fog. Once again in emotional and physical equilibrium, I found myself curled up in his arms. As I dozed off, a smile curved my lips.

"Ahh, fuck."