Every night is exactly the same. You grab my hand and race with me up the stairs. I laugh and smile and fall into you.
You kiss up and down my neck. You say the sweetest things with double meanings while you run your fingers along the bottom of my shirt. Your hands deftly pull it up and over my head without interrupting your kisses for more than a fraction of a second.
And then, your fingers running back down my sides, your lips moving across my collar bone to my shoulder to my arm. You lick my tattoo and I laugh all the more.
I plead with you to end your teasing, wrapping my hands around yours and dragging you to the bed, kicking off my pants as I go. I sit down and hurriedly undo your belt, looping my fingers into your waist band and pulling down.
You always amaze me. Every part of you. Every new thing, every familiar thing, every surprising thing, every same thing. I can’t help but admire you, the person I know you to be. And I look up to meet your eyes and I’m lost, instantly lost.
You put one knee on the bed beside me and begin to crawl on top as I scurry backwards, excited and happy. Your hands find mine and it feels like the first time anyone has ever held my hands, fingers intertwined and curling in and out. I can’t tell which is you and which is me.
You overwhelm my senses and all the trains, noisy and rude, anxious and uncaring, slowly come to a stop as my brain loses focus on anything other than you.
The sound of your breathing, the shared air between us, the way your skin feels on mine, the pressure and weight of you.
Your tongue slides between my lips and I push upwards into you. I need to feel you. To be felt by you. My earlier laughs replaced by heavy moans and easy sighs. You are a comfort in a scary place; a hot, metal rod when my mind is off the rails in too many directions to count. You are centering, grounding.
“It hurts” I let out, in whispers.
*I know.* Your voice echos in my mind, tiny phrases on replay. *You like a bit of pain, don’t you?*
I feel myself lengthening, twitching, and your name hangs on my lips like it lives there. Over and over.
“It hurts..it hurts…”
*It’s ok to hurt. It’s ok to feel.*
“It hurts…”
Your name again and for a moment, I wonder if you can hear me. My toes curl, head pushes back farther into the pillow, my chin towards the ceiling with my mouth open, muttering names and titles. And suddenly, my body releases, all tension gone and trains slow.
My euphoria is so short lived, I wonder if it existed at all. I open my eyes to an empty room, with wet fingers and cracked lips.
“It hurts… it hurts to miss you this much.” Whispers to dead air, and all the trains instantly begin again. Anxious, harsh, mean, loud things.
“I don’t like this pain.” I choke out, the same tears that keep me company each night come flooding back. I curl up in the middle of an unshared bed, my mind not blank enough to sleep, and wait for morning.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/rnhtxu/alone_mf_vanilla
I was not prepared for that ending.