He had broken up with her, again. I wanted to tell her to move on, to forget him, but she was still insisting that she loved him. So I told her as much of the truth as she would listen to, that she deserved to be treated so much better than this, she deserved to be worshipped. I hated to see her look so sad, and only wished I could somehow bring a smile back to her face.
While Jess shared her story, we shared a bottle of wine. By the end we realised she wouldn't be able to drive home, so I gave her a t-shirt to wear and we settled into bed. She curled up, her back to me, and I lay behind her, holding her close to me with one arm, and stroking her hair gently with the other. We had slept together this way many times before, and were totally relaxed and comfortable with each other.
She turned round, so her face was inches from mine, our noses touching. I could smell her shampoo as I kept stroking her hair. Her arm was round my waist now, and she started to gently scratch my back. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but the feel of her fingernails was turning me on, especially when she slipped her hand under my t-shirt and was scratching my bare skin.