Amber lay on her bed as August moved over her. His hands and cock bringing her effortlessly to orgasm. So effortlessly she wondered sometimes if she might not even be there. If she could ask him to phone it in. Except for that one minute at the end after she had finished crying out, when he held her head tightly in his hands, his face buried in her hair, his fluids rushing into her body and the trace of his lips on her neck.
He was heavy on her chest in the cool wet afterwards. Never moving until she began to stir. Then getting out of her way as she swung herself out of bed, gathered her kimono to her and went into the bathroom. The blast of the shower always drowned out the sound of the door as he left.
He had tried to doll up their sex at first. Little jokes, compliments, gentle kisses-- so gentle they melted this heart she'd taken such care to harden. But she'd pushed him away, sneered at his attempts enough times that he never tried anymore.
She never went to his house. Had never slept in his bed.
The shower was far too hot, burning against her skin. She let it scald her for a second then turned it off leaning her head against the wet tile. Anything to keep from returning to that empty bed. She knew what she was doing. This was a deal, wasn't it? One he had scrupulously kept. No heart, no soul. No love. Her heart beat like it would break.
She dried herself carefully and went back to the devastated bed. Entering it from the opposite side from the one she had left. To avoid the cold wet spot. His smell was everywhere. She changed the sheets and lit a stick of incense. It did no good. His smell was everywhere. She could smell him in her hair.
