It started out with a bit of fooling around. I was reading a book, he was editing a website. He’d gone downstairs to check the availability of the kitchen and came back to tell me that it was occupied.
He clambered on top of me and suggested making bunches of French toast. I said something Jilly-esque about bunches of French people.
“Nah. I’m more in the mood for Belgians right now.”
With that we started making out, and just as the thought of “Hmm, I could go for sex right now” popped into my head…
“Do you want to have sex?”
I think the word you are looking for, darling, is “YES”.
After a brief escape to the bathroom, I came back to find that he had obeyed my request to get naked, so I found it only fair to return that request.
He licked my pussy, flicking his tongue against my soft folds and making me writhe in relief. I needed that, to be inside my body after being so far removed from it for a whole week. He relaxed me so expertly, and the eventual feeling of his cock inside me sent a flood of more relief over me.
We made love while up in the skies, the Gods decided that rain would fall. While we came for each other, the heatwave started breaking.
And when I woke up two hours later, hungry and suspiciously craving chocolate with nuts in it, it had indeed begun to rain. Fiercely, that.
He came into the room and smiled at me. “I should make some dinner, really.” he said.
And it’s silly how my heart behaves at the most unexpected times. Looking at him, still naked and somewhat erect, my heart just filled with so much love.
The rain burst out onto the pavements, and I thought of how I loved it so. Both the rain and loving him.