Our work schedules conflicted to the extent that we would barely be in the house at the same time again until late Thursday- technically early Friday. I kept the house clean, learned another couple recipes (I privately laughed at how Andrew thought I was a very experienced cook), and even went out with some coworkers for drinks on Thursday.
I think they were shocked when I took them up on the offer, since I had turned them down every time in the past. But now with rent, gas, and food covered, I had a little flexibility in my budget. Though I'm usually a stay-at-home type of person, I really needed a night out. And I think I craved some casual human contact.
It felt awkward at first. I thought Steve was flirting with me, and I barely knew how to respond. My life was a little more complicated than the last time I'd been out. Just the same, I tried to flirt back but without moving things forward just yet. I also deftly handled questions about my new living arrangements and how I suddenly had the funds to go out for fun. I had forgotten that Steve had met Andrew, so there was no hiding the basics. I told them I was renting a room but that housework and cooking covered some of my expenses there. I didn't feel the need to tell them what covered the rest of my expenses.
After a few hours of unwinding and starting to feel normal again, I was too drunk to drive. I was glad to see that a bus was still running at midnight. Leaving my car at the restaurant, I took the bus back to the house. It took much longer than driving, but none of us had been sober enough to be behind the wheel, and a taxi was
not
in my budget yet. So it was almost 2am when I stumbled in the door.
I pissed like a champ, then hit the fridge for a late night meal. I was off the next day and I wasn't ready to sleep. I pulled out a beer to go with my proudly homemade Chicken Kiev and sat down to watch another old comedy movie that was left in the DVD player. It was so nice to laugh and eat and not worry.
Halfway through the movie, Andrew got home. It was one of his double-shift days- 8 to 4 at the body shop and 6 to 2 at...wherever he worked at night. He went straight for the fridge, put together the same beer and chicken combo I had just finished, and sat down on the other side of the couch, handing me another beer. He smiled and laughed through the movie, finished his dinner, and took both our plates to the kitchen. He came back just as the credits were starting to roll.
I was stretching on the couch, and Andrew stood there, staring at me. I'm sure my chest looked nice as my back arched and my arms spread out. He knelt down next to me and started kissing my exposed stomach.
Shit. I had forgotten about that. "Andrew, I'm pretty tired."
"It's been over two days, Gina, that's the max."
I rolled my eyes, "Fine."
He quickly unbuttoned my jeans and slid his hand under my panties. With three fingers, he started rubbing my lips- slowly, gently, with long strokes. Then he slipped his middle finger inside me, gently working it in until he could do full strokes. All the while he was kissing me.
Oh, what the hell, I thought. I was still buzzed from the evening and a little turned on from flirting with Steve. I started kissing back. No reason I can't get some enjoyment out of this, right?
That just kicked him into high gear. I don't know how he had the energy after a 16 hour work day, but his hands started pulling off clothes- my pants, his shirt, my panties, his pants. All the while, he was still going after my mouth with his tongue. I was still lying down on the couch and he was still sometimes kneeling, sometimes leaning next to me.
Once our clothes were off, he resumed fingering me. I spread my legs to give him better access. I was sleepy and buzzed enough to not care that he might get me off. I was starting to feel warmer and I was squirming on the couch. I was in that state where my arms and breasts and legs just needed to be touched- I needed skin.
I reached over to Andrew and pulled him onto the couch. He settled on top of me and lined up his cock with my entrance. At this point, I was so ready that my hips were pushing at him, trying to get him inside me. I was making small, squeaky moans of frustration, sensing his tip right on my outer lips but not able to get him lodged inside. I think he may have even pulled back a bit just to tease me. With both hands I grabbed his ass, which was nice and firm, and I pulled him into me.
I moaned my satisfaction and slid my arms up his back. I rubbed my legs up and down his thighs, moving them as if I was climbing a ladder. My arms slid all over his back and sides. I pushed my breasts up to to his chest and wiggled around. Skin. I needed to feel skin. I needed to be touched. I needed skin as deep inside me as it could get. I wanted skin all over me, everywhere. I shifted so he could get his hands around me- touching my back, my ass, my neck. Still kissing. Face skin rubbing. Foot skin touching.
Thrusting deep. Breathing deep. Moaning into his mouth. Tongues greeting each other, welcoming each other. Arching my back so my stomach could rub his abs. Skin on chest. Arm skin rubbing. Hearing him gasp. Hearing myself gasp and cry out.
Timeless thrusting and rubbing. Stretching out my legs and wrapping them around his. Nowhere to roll, nowhere to move. Pushing up, writhing.
He reached to the floor and grabbed a small pillow. Slipping a hand under my butt, he lifted me up, pulling me into him, and slid the pillow under me. Now my hips were angled just right. He pulled himself forward a little until my face was in his chest. But oooh, boy! My clit was getting some good pressure. He stopped pulling out to thrust and just grinded himself into me. Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh...oh...OH!! Shhhhhhit oh jeez! I grab his ass and help grind. Hand on breast, rubbing, gentle twisting, rubbing again. Heavy breathing above my ear. Hand skin rubbing down my side, cradling my hips, rubbing my...
Ohhhhhh...I...God, I...UNGH!
I clenched my eyes shut, curled my toes and came, my head convulsing forward into his solid chest. He held still, continuing to press himself firmly inside me...sooo deep. My walls pulsed around him and my legs tried to squeeze together. He moaned and whispered "Yes...yes..."
At some point, he slid down a little so that our faces were even again. He placed his lips on mine and I did not refuse him entry. Gentle kissing and caressing while aftershocks continue. Occasional squeezing of his still firmly planted cock. Moments of shivering, chills, goosebumps. He could reach my breast with his mouth and began kissing and licking. I started thrusting up and grinding again, just because.
He reached down to my knees and pulled them up, one at a time locking his elbows under them. Folding my legs as far as he could get them, he resumed thrusting. This position always feels so much deeper, and the affect hit him quickly. He started a frenzied thrusting and grinding combination. I was so wiped out from my orgasm, that I did nothing to help. Once again, I mostly felt like a passive receptacle, just a prop in his sexual act.
He would thrust a few times and then grind himself deep inside me. He was groaning and moaning, and clearly enjoying himself. He tried to reach down and kiss me, but with my legs folded up, it wasn't easy. His arms still locked behind my knees, he had easy access to my breasts. He started to rub them, but I think he was so close that he all he could manage was to hold on to them. It was during one of those grinding motions that he gave a shout and started cumming. He couldn't get it any deeper, but he tried. His hands went into action again, trying to grab something- thighs, ass, shoulders- something to give more leverage, to pull my body closer, to get him in deeper.
And then he was done. He used his hands to crawl back and straighten his back so that he was kneeling on the other end of the couch. He slumped back and that's about all I remember.
I woke up a few hours later, still naked, still on the couch, with a pillow under my head and a blanket over me. The sun was coming up, and I could hear Andrew upstairs whistling in the shower, getting ready to head to work at 8. How did he work so much and sleep so little? I didn't care, I was just glad I didn't need to. I wrapped the blanket around myself as I stood up. I walked quietly up the stairs, slipped into bed, and fell soundly asleep until almost lunch time.
*******
I woke up mildly hungover and wanting only to bury myself under the covers forever. I felt sick and scared and embarrassed and confused and I wanted it all to go away. I closed my eyes and nursed some memories of my former life- I thought about middle school and family vacations and innocence and safety until the urge to pee was so strong that I had to leave my cocoon.
I was so so SO glad that Andrew was at work this morning. I just didn't want to deal with him. I couldn't make it through a lunch of leftovers without stopping to cry.
You just need to pull yourself together. It's just sex, it's totally worth it. You're in control here.
I think that last thought is what bothered me the most. As long as could detach myself and make sex something business-like and impersonal, then I was in control. What scared me so much about last night was that I
didn't
detach, I
didn't
distance myself from the moment, it
wasn't
