Maybe Not (Maybe #1.5)(14)

As soon as we’re flush together, we moan in unison.

I’ve never felt anything like it.

It’s as if her body contours perfectly to mine, fitting every line and curve and dip. Neither of us moves an inch while we fill the room with heavy gasps, giving ourselves a moment to adjust to the sheer perfection we just created.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

“Okay,” she replies.

She begins to move, and I don’t know what to do with myself. My hands want to hold her by the waist as she slides up and down, but I also know I’m not allowed to touch her. My eyes take her in as she continues her movements, her perfect, methodical, sweet movements.

After several minutes of watching her on top of me with her eyes closed and her lips parted, I give up. I can’t not touch her. My hands grip her waist and she tries to pull them away but I just grip harder, lifting her when she rises and pulling her down when she falls. She gives up trying to fight me after seeing how much better my strength can make it feel.

I want to hear her moan and I want to hear her fall apart on top of me, but she’s holding it all back, just like I knew she would.

I slide my hands up her back and pull her forward until our mouths meet. I keep one hand on the back of her head and one on her waist as she continues her rhythm on top of me.

I curve my hand around her hip and slowly slide it over her stomach, until I’m touching her. I slide a finger between us, separating her, feeling her warmth and wetness surround me. She moans into my mouth and I begin to rub her, but she immediately stops moving. She grabs my wrist and pulls it away from her, slapping my arm against the mattress again.

Her eyes open and focus firmly on mine as she slowly begins to move again. “Keep your hands on the mattress, Warren,” she warns.

Dammit, she’s making this difficult. I need to feel her again, and when I’m done touching her, I want to taste her. I want that wetness and warmth all over my tongue.

But first, I’ll let her have her way. I close my eyes and stop trying to take control. I focus on her tightness, swallowing me up. I focus on the fact that each time her body meets mine, I’m as deep inside of her as I can possibly go.

She leans forward and her breasts dance back and forth across my chest as she moves on top of me.

Heaven is definitely for real.

My legs begin to tense and my hands are searching for something to grip as I feel myself building. She can sense I’m near release, so she tightens around me and her thrusts become faster and harder. I keep my eyes closed as my body begins to shake beneath her.

I want to cuss and groan, and let her know how good this feels as I release inside of her, but I don’t make a single noise. If I’m not allowed to touch her while I come, then she’s not allowed to hear how much I f*cking love every second of it.

She continues to move over me as I quietly succumb to the tremors. When it’s over, she comes to a stop on top of me. I open my eyes and look up at her and catch her smiling down at me. As soon as she realizes I’m looking at her, the smile is gone.

I want her to collapse against my chest. I want to roll her onto her back and take her in my mouth until she’s screaming my name out in ecstasy, rather than anger.

Instead, she slowly slides off of me. She stands and turns toward the bathroom. “Goodnight, Warren.”

The door closes behind her and I’m lying here in complete confusion. I would be running after her right about now, but I’m still too weak to move.

I give myself time to regroup, and then I remove the condom and toss it into the bathroom trash can on my way to her bedroom. I swing open the door just as she’s crawling into her bed. As soon as her head meets her pillow, I’m on top of her, kissing her. As expected, she pushes me away.

“What did I say about being clingy?” she says, pulling her face from mine.

“I’m not being clingy,” I say, kissing my way down her neck. “We’re not finished.”

She pulls away even farther and pushes my face back. “I’m pretty sure we finished, Warren. About three minutes ago.”

“I finished,” I say, looking her in the eyes. “But you didn’t finish.” I can feel her resistance as she attempts to roll over.

“Warren, stop,” she says, pushing me away.

I don’t pull away from her. Instead, I wrap my arm around her and slowly move my hand across her stomach.

That’s when she slaps me.

I immediately pull back and look down at her in shock.

She pushes me away and scoots up on her bed until her back meets the headboard. “I said stop,” she says, defending her slap.

I work my jaw back and forth, not sure what to do. In all my years of experience with girls and even in all the recent porn I’ve been watching, this isn’t how sex usually goes. People are selfish by nature and the fact that she doesn’t even want me to get her off is confusing the hell out of me.

“Am I . . .” I pause and look at her. “Am I misreading something here? Because I thought . . .”

“We f*cked, Warren. It’s over, now go to sleep.”

I shake my head. “No, Bridgette. You f*cked. You did all the work and you didn’t even get to enjoy it. I don’t understand why you won’t let me touch you.”

She groans, frustrated. “Warren, it’s fine. It was fun.” She looks away from me. “I just don’t like the other part, so go to bed.”