He pushes me gently onto my back and bends to play with my clit again, blowing on it and then licking it while he slides two fingers inside me. It feels so good, and I thrust my hips up against him. “You want another?” he asks, voice hoarse. I nod, and he adds a third finger to the two inside.
“Oh god,” I cry out, as my need ratchets desperately high. “Now, please!” And then the universe explodes in fireworks again, and he holds me through it. As my pussy spasms slow, I reach for his big beautiful beast of a cock, and line it up with my entrance.
Some evil memory says, Bigdong, inside my head, and I laugh out loud. And then he’s inching it inside me, and every millimeter of my interior walls is alive with sexual delight. It feels like we’re so together, fitting like yin and yang, and it feels so fucking good. It feels so incredibly fucking good that with just a few minutes of his long slow strokes, his hot kisses, I’m exploding in fireworks yet again. His back stiffens under my hands, and he cries out against my neck, and then I feel a hot stream inside my cunt.
I don’t know how it could feel hot, when every part of us is body temperature. But it does. “Wow,” I say.
“You can say that again,” he mutters against my neck.
So I do. “Wow.”
I feel the rumble of his quiet laughter. “Yeah,” he says, and then rolls us to the side and kisses my forehead. “For the record, I don’t usually go off prematurely. It’s just been a long time. And I feel like the foreplay has lasted a whole week.”
I nod. I kiss his mouth again. We’re quiet. He snuggles us into a more comfortable position.
“The minute I saw you,” he says, like he’s thinking.
“Really? I don’t even remember what I was wearing at Lonnie’s.”
“Oh, I didn’t notice the clothes,” he says drily.
“Well, what did you notice?” I prop my head up on his hard chest.
He laughs. “Your ass.”
“Oh, you’re an ass man, huh? It’s a good thing I’ve got all this ass, then.”
He reaches back with one hand and smacks me lightly. “It’s a damn good thing.” Then he sighs. “I know I’m too old for you. I just don’t care.”
“No, you’re not,” I say reflexively. Then, “Wait. How old are you?”
“Thirty-five. And you’re twenty-three. I mean, assuming Wade didn’t lie on his hospital paperwork and you’re the same age. People will call me a cradle-snatcher.”
“No,” I say, and trace little hearts on his chest. “That’s only half a generation. You’re not old enough to be my dad or anything.”
“We probably like different music,” he says. “All your friends will call me Grandpa.”
I raise my head and stare into his eyes. “Are you looking for a reason to dump me, now that you’ve fucked me into the best sex I have ever had in my entire life?”
“What? No. No.” His hands tighten on me. “No, I’m just trying to remind myself that it might not work out.”
“I don’t see why it wouldn’t,” I say. “You like Wade. You’re divorced long enough ago that I’m not a rebound girl. You’re not a serial killer.”
“That you know of,” he says.
“I imagine the hospital would be really surprised if you were.” He snorts. “No, seriously, Fin. Why wouldn’t it? We like each other. We’re both responsible adults. We’re really attracted.”
He doesn’t answer me for several minutes, and now I’m getting nervous. What hasn’t he told me? Finally he sighs. “It was my fault Becky left me.”
NINE
Finlay
It hurts to talk about Becky and the mistakes I made, to be honest. But I realize that’s kind of the point: being honest. And I want to give June my honesty.
I begin to stroke June’s silky hair. It’s still wet, and all that writhing she was doing while I was eating her out must have messed it up, but it’s so soft. “I fucked up being married.”
“Did you cheat on her?” She sounds cautious.
“No. Never. But then I really never had the time to.” I stop and consider. “Unless you say that I was cheating on her with my job.”
“I don’t get that.”
“We met when I had one year of med school left,” I explained, “and she’d been out of college for a year, had just gotten started on her career. We were both working a lot. But I think I didn’t realize that she expected us to spend time together whenever we weren’t working, and I think she expected I’d have one of those general practices where you go into the office at 8 and go home by 6, and only in rare cases would you be called out after hours.”
“You didn’t do that, I guess.”
“I needed money to pay off my student loans. They were big. I couldn’t ask my parents for more. And hospital ERs pay pretty well. They have to, because they demand a lot in terms of physicians’ time. Night hours, long shifts, stressful work. But before long, I found that I really loved it. And it wasn’t hard to take another shift when somebody asked me to. I was learning a lot, I was making a lot, I was paying off my loans as fast as I could.”
“But she hated it that you were gone all the time?” June asks. She’s writing something on my chest with her fingers. Drawing something, maybe.
“Yes.” I sigh. “And I never noticed, until she told me she wanted a divorce. She said I wasn’t emotionally available, and clearly I didn’t care about her, which she said she finally realized after she started hanging out with Todd. Todd loved her, she said. Todd wanted to be with her all the time, while I obviously cared more about my career.
“And I said stuff I really didn’t mean. Like, didn’t she care that I was making us a financial future? Like, I had no idea that she was such a bitch and only cared about herself.”
“Mm,” June says. I realize that she’s drawing little hearts on my skin. Which is really sweet.
“And then she said that she’d never minded paying the bills. She said what she really minded was not having a husband. That I was never home and she felt alone all the time.”
June nods, slowly.
“You’d feel like that, too?”
“I’d want you. I wouldn’t care about the bills,” she says.
I kiss her. “I finally got it, when she said that. I told her I could change. I could slow down my work schedule, I could be home more. But she said it was too late.”
June strokes a hand over my hair. “Ouch. So just when you were ready to change, she was done?”
“Yeah. I sort of pitched a fit and demanded to know why she didn’t tell me she was that unhappy before she went out and found somebody else. I was pretty much a bastard about it, actually.”
June sits up, and her glorious full breasts sway with the motion. It’s getting increasingly hard to concentrate on what I’m saying to her, because she’s so beautiful and so naked. “You were upset,” she says. “I don’t think it was quite fair. Of either of you, actually. You didn’t pay attention, and she wasn’t honest.”