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The Hearts in the Chest

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She is not in control of herself, is her excuse later. He is not even in control of her. She is beyond things like that, just like she is beyond the discomfort of her leg pulled way up and underneath The Middleman's side. He pulls out with a low moan and a slick noise of pressure. He ducks lower on the mattress, his shoulder sliding underneath her knee.

She would not let any other man do this, but she knows he can just like he can do anything else. He slips and jostles her until her body is doing the splits around him. Her hip doesn't like it but his body does, his stomach rippling with muscles and gasps. There is only one angle and it is high, hard, blunt and right up against her. He has a rude cock, shoving in and setting her teeth on edge. Her hand fastens to the back of his neck, her other one crams under her knee where it's sweaty from both of them.

He is gone, but she doesn't mind because he looks so free for a moment, trapped in her cunt and holding back a scream. His face turns down and hides in her softly cramping calf, his body unrepentant and still hard as he rocks her into his hips. He is good, her boss, her partner and whatever other names you'd give when someone literally becomes like sunshine to you.

“I love you . . . Wendy.”

They are equally fools, equally helpless to each other, and she gets brave enough to close her eyes and let him love her overwhelmingly. She will not say it back, not when she believes it will be a death knell of what they have. She will not gasp it to him because she doesn't even know his name, and he doesn't know that she can see how this will end.

But she comes, becomes almost a straight line in his bed, feels briefly like she is absorbing his large mass into herself and likes it. She mumbles some of the words he doesn't like, and does not tell him she loves him, even though she knows her love is embarrassingly obvious from space.

He wakes up every morning marked with her longing, and whenever she realizes her fingers are swirling compulsively on his chest Wendy tries to go back to sleeping on her own side of the bed. He just curls up around her and puts her hand back where it was, encouraging her silliness.