“Do you want to have no-strings attached, break up sex on the loveseat”??
What a question; of course I did, badly. The loveseat was new, fancy, reclining, and definitely needed breaking in. And sitting next to him, talking about work issues and petting the soft stubble on his head, an almost reflexive calming technique for us both, it felt like the closest we’d been since he’d decided to end things a week earlier.
“I would be into that”, I nodded, softly, desperate to feel him run his fingers up my torso, over my breasts, pull me closer to him, get out of some of the pent-up energy I’d been feeling being so physically close, but emotionally separated the past couple days.
“Excellent”, was the response, as he turned us deftly so I was facing away from him, and slid my sweater over my head, exposing me to the colder air of the house, goosebumps making me even more sensitive to his touch. He started gently tickling up and down my back, slowly, teasing, then reached around and grasped my small, perky breast while sliding his other hand down to my ass, squeezing both firmly.