Morning. Way too early to get up. We both twist and turn pretending we’re asleep. He gets up to the bathroom, I then take my turn. Today the gap between us seems huge.
I’m still angry about the night before, about being ignored. I don’t pop under the covers to service him. I can’t handle the rejection if I’ve picked up the wrong vibe.
I play it cool. I keep my eyes closed. I don’t move, smarting from frustration still.
And then suddenly we’re kissing. He stroke my hair, pulls it out of my eyes. His hands reach for mine and pull them down to his already stiff cock. I play with it for a while and then climb on top. I’m wet but I didn’t realise how much, he slides straight in. I ride him, my tits bouncing. His eyes are closed but he thrusts a little and I come almost as soon as we’ve started, but I keep quiet. We continue but he says he can’t come so we stop.
Later, still in bed I’m horny again. I grab his hands and they’re cold. I pull one hand down to my pussy, still wet from before. He starts to play with me, strumming and teasing my clit and I writhe and raise up to his fingers. His tune becomes more insistent, more frantic, and I’m really close. He slips two fingers inside me and they are deliciously cold inside my hot cunt. I buck against them and it’s so good. He’s never done this. And then he stops. I push his hand closer to me, but it’s still – he’s asleep again. I come gloriously against the flat of his palm, because it’s the only thing I have.
Of course, I didn’t know then that would be the last time I’d see him.