She awoke frozen, petrified. She knew where she was, but she also knew that she was completely alone.
The night had been long. She had tumbled into bed with him a little after midnight, pulling his belt loose from its loops, popping buttons as she ripped off his shirt, snaking her thumbs into the elastic of his boxer briefs. Everything about him gave her goosepimples. He’d merely looked at her with bourbon in his eyes.
His hands had scaled the inclines of her body, his jaw set and rigid. She pressed herself into him, desperate to melt his reservations away. He had sighed, spreading her legs and settling them on his shoulders as he dove into her pussy, tasting but not quite savoring her whimpers and purrs.
He had fucked her from behind, her hair gathered and pulled taut in his left hand, his right gripping her hip gently. He had moved in and out of her with purpose but without feeling. She ached from him now, but knew he’d left not a single mark on her. Their sex had been sterile somehow, frigid in spite of the heat that welled up in her belly.
But then he’d said it, lying in the haze of afterwards. He’d rolled over and whispered it to her, sending chills all over her body. Her mouth somehow managed to form an affirmative. They’d slept, then, peaceful and silent all night.
Now, she threw the sheet off of herself and scanned the room for some sign that he might return, a shiver creeping up her spine as she was met with cold morning air. She bit her lip and halted tears that threatened to fall. At once, she noticed a folded piece of paper lying atop his pillow, and her heart froze in her chest.
Would it be a note that he’d gone to find breakfast, to tell her that he’d return with bagels and coffee? Would it be a note that he had a very important meeting to go to, but here was his number and that she should call? Or would it be a note that he regretted his question, that she should forget about him forever?
With halted breath, she slowly leaned forward and caught the paper with shaky fingers.
(via dailyporno)