First Erotica - Titled: The Breakup

He didn’t slam the door. At least he gave me that one courtesy as he left our home for the very last time. Just a quiet “snick” sounded in the still, cool pre-dawn air. And then he was gone.

I lay there – in what used to be our bed – and I wondered how I was supposed to feel now. What was I supposed to do? The down comforter was still very warm. The sheets were still very soft. I was still wearing my short, silk gown that I put on earlier that night – hoping, hoping, hoping to postpone the inevitable. Now what? How was I supposed to exist without him beside me? I lay there quietly as the minutes ticked by.

Hours later, as the sun began to show itself slowly over the hills, the sound repeated. “Snick.” I didn’t move. I didn’t blink. I waited. I didn’t watch him as he crossed into the bedroom, didn’t turn to him as he stripped off his heavy sweater with a mighty sigh and leaned down to pull off his boots. I didn’t move as he pulled back the covers and slipped into bed next to me, into his side, his spot – still wearing the jeans that I gave him last Christmas - the ones that he promptly got a hole in taking down the tree only days later. Still I waited as he just looked at me.

Then suddenly, violently, he grabbed my long, blond hair in one hand, bending my head backwards, shoving me hard into the pillow as he pressed his face to mine. Possessing my lips with a kiss so scorching, so powerful that for a moment I wasn’t sure if I would be able to breathe again… and wasn’t really sure if I cared to. “Jess…” he whispered into my mouth. I closed my eyes as he plundered my mouth again and again with his tongue – as his hands roamed my body, each curve responding just like it always did, as if his hands were fire, bringing heat, almost unbearable to every inch. It hurt – and I arched my back as if begging for more.

Somehow, some way, his jeans were simply gone. I don’t remember how. I only remember reaching down; clawing, clenching and finding hard flesh – so familiar and yet so novel every time. My gown was around my neck as his hungry mouth moved over my chest, finding my nipples, suckling, biting – making me groan. But he didn’t stop his descent. Down he went, my hands tangling in his hair, my head whipping back and forth in a silent pantomime of no that meant anything but. His mouth was so warm between my legs that I felt as if a volcano suddenly erupted inside of me… and in a way it did. Quickly, quickly – he moved up my body and in one smooth motion was inside me, huge and comforting. I yelped involuntarily as our bodies began to move together in our ancient dance. His eyes met mine; silent, serious, intense… we rocked harder and harder. Just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, the moment came – oh sweet and glorious orgasm - just as he threw his head back in triumph, finishing as well. Covered in sweat, victorious, he rested on top of my spent, exhausted body.

“So, what’s for breakfast?”