Another chance encounter with a Cuseeme friend.
Her breath was rasping in her mouth.
"Thank you, Michael." She began to rock her hips against me, pressing down. "I like this," she said. "So much." Her skirt tore along her hips. I leaned back. Her panties made a squishing noise as she rubbed them up against me.
"Wait," I asked.
She looked down at me, and then down between us, and then she brought her knees together, making space. She reached into her skirt, into the tear, and found me. She brought me up, and rubbed me, rubbed my cock against her pantied cunt.
"Is this what you want?" she asked. I groaned, nodding yes.
She stretched her panties to the side, and then leaned down, pressing my cock against her slick wet cunt.
"Michael, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you hard."
I groaned. I'd never heard her use that word before. I watched her lick her lips, preparing to impale herself on me. I pushed up, arching, trying to get inside her cunt. I felt my cock slip off her slick wet hole and I started coming. "Oh, God," I moaned, eyes closed, as I sprayed my come into her pussy hair.
She continued stroking me until I was done.
After a moment, I felt her climbing off of me. My cock slipped out of her hand. "Maria-"
"It's ok," she said. I watched as she wiped her hand against her skirt. She leaned down. "I don't mind," she said. I felt her hot breath against my face.
I swallowed, reaching out. "Maria-"
"No," she said, "Don't talk."
She leaned against the headboard, sitting up.
I watched her chest rise and fall. She was breathing through her mouth. Her face, and neck, and breasts were flushed.
"Maria," I said, reaching out again. She blocked my hand.
"No," she said, "Not like that." I dropped my hand. "I mean," she said, "I don't want to - like that."
I listened while her breathing slowly eased. She touched my head. The ceiling fan above our heads turned slowly. A grit of dust and grime had built up along the flat edges of the blades. I felt her fingers in my hair.
"Michael," she interrupted, "You believe me don't you?"
I inhaled and closed my eyes. I didn't want to think about it. A mental picture emerged before my eyelids: her, kneeling before another man.
I swallowed, gasping. "Maria."
I felt her getting up off of the bed.
I turned, and watched her naked back recede.
"Maria, how long?" I asked.
She paused in the doorway, glancing back. "Not long," she said. She closed the bathroom door. I lay there for a minute, feeling tense and weary.
I got up and pounded on the door. "Maria, tell me!" She turned off the water in the bathroom sink. I heard her footsteps on the floor.
"Go away," she said softly. I pounded my fist again, causing the door to shudder. I heard her catch her breath. "Go away," she repeated. I stared at my clenched fist.
I slowly put it down. "Maria, come out," I said.
Suddenly the door swung open. She was standing there, her skirt and panties on the floor.
"Do you think this is easy?" she asked. She was crying again. "Do you think this is easy for me?" She stared at me a minute, panting, eyes wide. "It's NOT." She slammed the door shut again. This time I heard it lock. I heard her toothbrush wrapping on the sink, and then the shower faucet coming on.
I turned, and went, and sat back on the bed. While I listened to the shower, I dressed, and watched, as the last light faded from the room.
When she came out, it was dark, except the light coming from the bathroom. Her hair was wet, and dripping. She was wrapped up in a towel. She adjusted it, pulling down on the lower hem, like it was an extremely short dress that she was wearing.
She did not look at me. She gazed across the room, at the window. I could see her reflection there. "Michael," she said. "I'm sorry, for what I said before." I sat silently. "I didn't mean it. I want you to know-" She paused, swallowing. "Everything."
She turned, facing me. "Michael, do you love me?"
I looked down.