Their bodies stuck together with a light, pleasant sweat. Both completely naked, exactly the same height. Her long fingers played in his hair, their legs intertwined.
Her words soothed him and his words made her smile.
In these moments, he marveled at her beauty. Her small, perfect breasts with pierced nipples. The length of her tan legs. The Latin words written down one side of her body.
The sheets and comforter a deep red, the lights off and blinds drawn.
The day outside hot, summer at full strength.
Her sister back in about an hour.
But now, right now, for these few minutes, they could relax, close their eyes, say words, and smile.
Just minutes before, hot semen on her back, dripping down her leg...On all fours as he entered her, found rhythm, admired her tiny, tight asshole and the tattoo just above it, held her waist, and pushed all the way...
Before that, her mouth on him, his boxer briefs tossed aside, the head of his cock throbbing and pulsing against her lips and tongue.
Holding her after her climax, the one caused by his mouth, his fingers, his hungry tongue.
Never more than two hours together, mostly just over one.
They both craved those moments, those minutes. All of it intense, passionate, wondrous. The few minutes just before he left the most wonderful of all.
Alone. Together. Darkness. Words. Light touch on sensitive bodies.
Every Thursday for one summer. A few minutes.
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