It was strange to be doused in pleasure so virulent that it was almost excruciatingly painful, but that was exactly what was happening to me. My brain shut off for a moment, leaving me floating in some sort of semi-existence, and then I crashed back into my own body gasping and shaking.
Now that I had reached my end, Mickey held nothing back. I could feel my hips bruising in his crushing grip, but I loved it. He only lasted a minute, or maybe two, before he too was spilling into me without restraint.
We huddled there a moment, both panting and heaving, slick with the efforts of our coupling. I remembered reading once that maintaining pleasant skin contact with someone else caused oxytocin to be released into the blood system. I wasn’t sure if that was still the case considering that I had the thick chemical cocktail of my orgasm still rushing inside of me, but it felt kind of like it did.
I had to admit, however, that this was the best idea I’d had in a long while.
Eventually, however, he slipped out of me, drawing displeased noises from both of us. He pulled away from me for a moment, and I twisted to see what he was doing, only to see him reach for that lever again.
He found it and the seat reclined further until it was flat. Now that I could get behind. I let myself fall to the side, thoroughly spent, and Mickey laid back as well.
“Thank you,” I couldn’t help but murmur as he pulled me into his side. He was so big, so warm. I loved it. He felt like shelter. Was that a weird thing to think? Probably, but I was too high off my orgasm to really care.
“The pleasure was all mine,” he rumbled, the slightest of chuckles to the phrase.
I let myself curl into him, let his hands place me how he wanted. “I assure you; it absolutely wasn’t all yours. I had my fair share.”
“I doubt it,” he countered. “If you had your fair share, I would have had you cum twice before I got mine.” He rolled to look at me, his intense gaze even more acute than ever. “But you make me want to be so fucking…” he took a deep breath and that look almost grew burning, “selfish.”
Oh.
Holy shit.
The way he was looking at me was too much, too deep. I felt it blaze through me, bringing up feelings that weren’t appropriate to feel for a friend.
“I…” I whispered, feeling like my whole might was caught up in everything that was him.
“Yeah?”
“I need to go,” I finished, sitting up and frantically scrambling to find my clothes. I managed to get my bra back on and my shirt, but the leggings were going to require me to at least get my legs out of the car.
Mickey watched me, clearly surprised by my sudden turnabout, but he didn’t say anything until I opened my door.
He caught my wrist and I turned towards him, eyes wide and heart thundering.
“What’s going on?” he asked. If I didn’t know better, I would think that he was hurt.
“Nothing. I’m just tired. I should go.”
He didn’t release me, however, just licking his lips as his brows furrowed. “Are you just using me for sex?”
The thought was so out there, just blurted right into the open, that I could only continue to stare at him like he was crazy.
We were friends with benefits! There was no using him for sex! Sex was supposed to be what all of it was about!
…and yet, it wasn’t just the sex that kept drawing me in, was it?
“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” I snapped, pulling my leggings the rest of the way on, sliding into my flats and storming away.
But as I left, rushing across the dark parking lot to my car, I couldn’t help but feel like maybe I was a little bit of the bad guy.
Amber
Weeks passed by without pause after I left Mickey in his car. I tried not to think about him, about what happened between us, but often the thoughts would come unbidden in the dead of the night. Hovering over me, making me question everything from the wedding and beyond.
It was frustrating, and lead to many hours of tossing and turning across my bed. In the back of my head, I knew that I would dwell on my thoughts if I didn’t have a distraction, so I did what every healthy adult did when they were ducking their personal life and threw myself into my work. Just about every job I was offered I accepted, as long as the pay was right. Work began to pile up, apparently boosted by the word of mouth from the commercial I’d done -which wasn’t even out yet- and I could feel the stress of it all weighing me down.