I can’t help it; I laugh, feeling delightfully not self-conscious, feeling free, feeling happy.“Come here, Bryson,” I demand, reaching for him.
We kiss for a while, slowly at first, and then with more fervency as we regain some of the momentum we lost in the transition to the bedroom.His hands, it seems, are everywhere; we’ve already seen each other naked and I’ve come around his hand multiple times but somehow it’s like he’s cataloging me for the first time, anyway.Bryson drags his mouth away from mine and starts mapping my curves with it, lapping at my neck and my breasts and even swirling his tongue into my belly button before it makes me giggle too much and he has to stop.He talks as he goes, of course, telling me the things he loves: “Love your neck, Carleigh,” “love these pretty tits,” “love your stomach, babe, and you taste so good in here,” with the last comment punctuated by his tongue sliding onto me.
“Need you to be ready for me,” Bryson is saying, as I watch him hook my knees over his shoulders.
“Hmm,” I respond, feeling dazed, and then he’s not talking anymore, finally, that big mouth being put to good use.He’s done this before and he’s pretty good at it, not that I have a tremendous amount of expertise, but he seems to know where I need him, when I need him to slide a finger inside, just how to purse his lips around my clit.
I knock his hat away with my hands, feeling desperate as the coil tightens in my abdomen, and drag his unkempt curls between my fingers.I’ve always felt so vulnerable with oral sex, so anxious about letting anyone have this much control over me, but things feel so different with Bryson.I feel so comfortable, so relaxed, so taken care of, so worshiped as his hands grip my ass and he plays me with his lips and his tongue.
I come hard with two fingers inside and my clit between his lips.I lay there, boneless and smiling, only somewhat aware of the sound of his shorts falling to the floor.There’s the tearing of a foil packet and then Bryson is there, up at my face, kissing me.I can taste the remnants of myself on his tongue and it does something inside me; I clutch his shoulders and kiss him harder, and when he bends my knees and spreads them again, I’m ready.
Bryson pushes into me slowly, his breath staggered, his body trembling with control.“Oh fuck, Carleigh, baby you feel so good -”
I’m inhaling slowly, relaxing my muscles with closed eyes, focusing on my breath as my smaller body stretches to accommodate him.He’s big, bigger than I thought he’d feel like.It’s painful, almost, a hard stretch but a good one, and finally I roll my hips up to get him to move.
“Bryson,” I breathe, opening my eyes to look at him.He’s gazing down at me with concentration etched into his furrowed brow but his eyes full of love and adoration.“Come on, Bryson,” I urge, increasing our pace.
He drops to one elbow above me, his hips still moving, one hand keeping my left leg bent at the knee and pushed away to give himself room.I’ll have sore thighs later, but it’ll be worth it.
Bryson pushes deeper, his eyes dropping from mine when his thighs tense.He reaches between them to touch me, but I’m so sensitive and spent and I just can’t, so I drag that hand up to cover my breast instead and then kiss him.
Something about my tongue in his mouth seems to really do it for him, because his hips quicken and my thighs ache and when I clench around him he comes, his groan escaping into my lips.He pulses into me once - twice - afterward, then drops his head beside mine and kisses the shell of my ear.
“You’re so amazing, Carleigh,” Bryson says quietly, his voice rough but gentle.He feels hot when he pulls out of me, and I immediately sense the loss when he steps away to discard the condom.Then moments later, he’s back with a cloth, cleaning me up.
I roll onto my side to give him room to join me.I should get up and pee, should actually clean up a bit, probably need a shower anyway - but then Bryson’s in bed behind me and his arms are surrounding me and there’s a blanket involved now and this is so, so much and just enough at the same time.
“You making me breakfast later, Half-Sour?”Bryson murmurs into the quiet room, the distant sounds of Bruce Springsteen filtering down the hallway from the kitchen, where it still plays on his phone.
I settle back into him, smiling.I bring one of his hands to my mouth and kiss it.“Nap for twenty-minutes with me and I'll make you anything you want,” I promise.
“Not picky,” he says.“Got lots of fresh veggies at the market though, and got some farm eggs.”
“Harvest omelet,” I say, my eyes nearly closed again.“Good time of year for that.”
As the time approaches for me to leave for Hyde Park, my stomach tightens, not knowing if what we have is going to survive.Is Bryson okay with only seeing me on weekends?
“So, we should really talk about my moving to Hyde Park.Do we need to put this on pause while I’m gone?”
It’s not what I want, but I don't want him to feel trapped.Sure, I’m only going to be three hours away, but distance doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder.Am I scared that by the time I’m down with this opportunity, he might have found someone else?Yes, but I try to push that doubt far away and focus on what we have.Neither of us saw this coming when he moved in, and as much as it took us by surprise, right now there is no turning back.Bryson is someone I want in my life, but I can’t let him stray me from things that I want to accomplish.No more than I would stand in the way of something he wants to do.If Bryson and I are going to survive long-term, we have to understand this from both spectrums.Believe and trust each other.
He comes over and tucks my hair behind my ear.“There is no pausing what we have.I will be anticipating seeing you every weekend until you are back in this apartment with me.I’ve never thought much about my future, but I do know that I want you in it.I love you, Carleigh.”