Her confession caused him to miss a few breaths. She was pretending, just pretending. They were both playing a role until May 25th. But when she said that, it made him want things. Things he couldn’t have.
May 25th was still a few weeks away, but it felt like tomorrow.
Usually, he ensured he was on top when they made love. This was his way of dominating her even in missionary. But that night, after stripping her naked in their well-appointed hotel suite, he invited her to climb on top.
He drank in the sight of her curvy body as she sank down onto him, the lips of her cunt parting around his raging cock.
But she’d been a little too quick to take him up on his invitation. She let out a little cry of pain, clawing at his chest as she squirmed to adjust to the size of him in her tight but not quite wet enough yet heat.
She was so tight and hot. Victor had to grit his teeth to keep from unleashing inside of her as she made her adjustments. He cupped one hand around her cheek and one hand around her waist, guiding her until she moistened around his cock and began moving effortlessly on top of him.
Then he caressed her breasts as she rode him with a sensual confidence she did not possess fifteen years ago. She looked nothing like she did in Japan. Yet, tonight, she was everything she’d been back then. But even better.
She liked taking control. Until she didn’t. She lost the thread when he tweaked her nipples, adding more pressure until they were extended pebbles between his fingers and thumbs.
“Victor,” she panted, her strokes getting sloppy. “Oh, God, Victor. I can’t…please…”
She’d become incoherent. But that was okay. Victor knew what she wanted, what she needed. It was the same thing as him.
He relinquished her breasts and grabbed onto her hips. Then he tilted her at an angle so that her clit could grind against his shaft as they moved faster and faster together.
It didn’t take long after that. A painful ache rose inside of him, letting him know he was close. But he held on…held on until she shattered above him, calling out his name as the powerful orgasm swept over her.
He watched her come with a warm feeling in his chest, wishing he could do this with her forever. But her tight pussy mercilessly milked him as it spasmed, and soon, he could no longer hold back.
His hands instinctively found her ass, and he threw back his head. Yelling out with his release as he pulled her hips tight against his spurting cock.
Not for the first time since they’d made their new agreement, he wondered how he’d managed to pull out all those years. Whatever exceptional pride had allowed him to do that was long gone now.
They let out sighs disguised as laughs as they came down together, looking at each other helplessly. And Dawn seemed to be speaking for the both of them when she wondered out loud, “Ten years…how is that still so intense?”
He had no idea.
And the painful ache…
It had only been slightly mollified when they shattered together. Temporarily muted, but not completely gone.
Maybe not for her either. She didn’t seem one bit surprised when he turned her to face him and drew her into his arms the next morning. This wasn’t like the night before. Her cunt was warm and ready when he wrapped her top leg around his waist. And after he slipped inside, there was no adjustment needed whatsoever. He cupped the back of her head and hugged her close, jerking both of their bodies up in the bed as he drove himself into her.
That morning as the sun came up over the Potomac River, the only sounds in the room were her soft gasps and his animalistic grunts as he took her again. But the painful ache still did not diminish. It became worse and worse.
Eventually, they managed to get showered and eat a little something. Then he drove them to the National Mall for a private tour of the National Museum of African American History and Culture—or as Dawn called it, The Black History Museum as if it were the only one in the world.
She was even more excited about this surprise than the cherry blossoms. “I’ve been trying to get down here since 2016 when it opened—you know, for Love Origins. This is amazing. I can’t thank you enough!”
Yet another pang of guilt pierced his chest. She was thanking him for his generosity, but they both knew the reason she hadn’t been able to make it down here. Because she hadn’t been allowed.
By now, he’d learned all about her thesis project. And after the tour was done and they were left to wander on their own, he confessed, “I can see how it would have been helpful to visit this place during the creation of your thesis. I am…sorry I didn’t allow you to come here earlier.”
The signs stuttered as they left his hands. Victor still wasn’t one to apologize. Ever. But she had never really known that about him. So she didn’t realize the significance of him doing so more than once. With her. Only with her.
And she surprised him by answering, “Don’t worry about it. I haven’t been able to look at a historical black anything for years without trying to incorporate it into my thesis or some other project I was working on in school. It’s kind of nice to be able to enjoy history for history’s sake for once.
History for history’s sake.
Beautiful words. But his heart chilled inside his chest.
He knew about the job in Pittsburgh. According to Phantom, who had looked into the offer for him, she had been specifically hired to work on an opening sequence revolving around the time of slavery in the U.S.
But she hadn’t said one word about this career opportunity to him. Not even to connect it to this museum visit that she could obviously still find useful.
Her omission left a bitter taste in his mouth as they walked back to the car and began the long trip back to Rhode Island.
Their silence wasn’t nearly as companionable as it had been the day before. And about halfway through the ride, Dawn pressed a finger into the console’s touch screen to turn the radio on again.
This time the radio station she chose was doing a “You Aught To Know” weekend, featuring a playlist of songs from the “the first decade of the millennium.”
Stiff and quiet in the front seat, they listened to songs from their youth. Neither of them enjoyed the “throwback” experience as much as the DJ seemed to think they would.
But then, a heavily synthesized clapping drum beat filled up the car. One Victor vaguely recognized, even though he rarely listened to American rap.
Was that…yes, it was. It was the same song that was playing overhead the first time he saw Dawn. At the Red Diamond nightclub in Roppongi.
And just in case, he thought he might be mistaken about that, Dawn yelled, “J-KWOOOOOONNNNNN!!!! I used to love this song. Yessssss! ‘Tipsy!’”
They had no alcohol. Nor were they in “the club.” But somehow, they both ended up seat-dancing to “Tipsy” for the next four minutes.
They fell out laughing when the song finally let them go. And Dawn clapped her hands excitedly when the DJ promised to play “Feels Good Inc.” by the Gorillaz when he returned from the commercial break.
“I loved that song too,” Dawn said with a fond laugh.
She leaned her head back against her seat and rolled it over to regard Victor, the look in her eyes as fond as the sound of her laughter. “I know you can’t answer because you’re driving, but this is exactly what I needed. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy and relaxed before a presentation. So, thank you. Seriously, thank you.”