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with you everywhere

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She has that adorable giggle that she always has when she knows she's won, and she knows she's doing something naughty. I’ve seen it before – when she was right about which exit to take, or when she pulled a prank and I walked straight into it, or that time when she dangled her handcuffs and joked she should use them on me. At least, I thought it was a joke at the time.

A bureau credit card. A hotel room with a bubble bath. A night to spend alone with her, far away from everything else. And I plan to make good use of that.

She giggles again and holds onto my arm and all I want to do is push her onto her back and kiss her stomach until her top is so transparent I can see her belly button ring. And perhaps, after that, I’d kiss her in other places, too.

I restrain myself, though, and settle for having her by my side for now. “A bureau credit card, huh? I gotta take you out for dinner then,” I try to say smoothly. She looks ridiculously pleased with that prospect, and like she has after-dinner plans already, too. So, we walk off together, hand in hand, joking about silly things while I lead her to a fancy restaurant that I happened to have spotted on the way over.


During dinner, we’re on our best behaviour – she has a light but luxurious seafood dish that I’d never have guessed she’d pick, but I should know by now that she’ll always keep me guessing. I see the amount of wine versus the amount of food that she consumes, and I can’t help but think that she’ll be blissfully flirty about three sips and two bites from now.

My estimate is correct.

Even more of those giggles that I so adore appear, she eyes me over the rim of her wine glass, eyes dark but sparkling with delight. It’s rare that I get to see her this carefree and I feel blessed with this opportunity. She’s even more gorgeous in candlelight, flushed cheeks radiating affection.

I encourage her to indulge in a dessert, something she says her girlfriend back in university used to do too. I can’t help but wonder, but she doesn’t elaborate. This is how I learn things about her – either small scraps offered in rare moments of intimacy, or out of necessity during unexpected tragedies.


We walk back to the hotel under starry skies and as we enter the room, she’s already kicking off her shoes, clearly not planning on going anywhere. She starts to undress as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and maybe it is. The thought suddenly hits me that I want it to be. When I remain in the doorway, somewhat baffled, she throws me a questioning look. “How much more do I need to take off for you to join me?”

In seconds, I’m tripping over my slacks as I try to take them off with my shoes still on. A tad overenthusiastic, perhaps, but she’s not normally this forward about sex. She teases, sure, but it’s always in the dark, always with some aspect of hiding. Never before has she so plainly invited me.


There is a third way I learn things about her – between crumpled bedsheets and through touches instead of words. Perhaps this way delights me even more. Today, I learn that licking that spot on her neck underneath her ear causes the happiest squeal I’ve ever heard from her, and that she loves scratch marks under her collarbones but not above, and that her nipples react very well to my teeth.

And that she loves it when my face is completely buried in her. Sloppy, broad licks, my tongue deep inside, my mouth wrapped around her entire cunt – the more she can mark me as hers, the lower her groans. Her expression turns feral when I grab her hips and lift them up so I have even better access; she wraps her legs around my neck, growls, and digs her nails into my scalp, pulling my hair.

On a hunch based on my earlier discoveries, I reach up with one hand and scratch my nails all the way down. She moans and starts to properly fuck my face now, rubbing herself all over my mouth and chin and nose and cheeks. I can barely breathe but I’d gladly give up oxygen if it means she’ll keep using me like this.

Once again, I scratch my nails all the way down her other side, and that sends her off. She tenses and holds still for a moment but then she’s coming all over my face and it’s the most glorious thing I’ve ever experienced and I don’t care about oxygen, I want her to keep going for as long as she can. A part of me is feral thinking how I did this to her, but I know I shouldn’t fool myself. She fucked me, not the other way around.


I lick her clean and learn one more thing about her: the harder she comes, the better she tastes.