Roses for Erin

She was so wet, and so tight, and so completely wonderful.

The taste of her, the smooth perfection of her inner lips on my tongue was better than I could ever have imagined.

She was completely soaked for me, and I loved the way her body responded to every little thing I did to her, no matter how subtle, no matter how small...

I loved making love to this girl.

This woman.

My woman.

I ached for her fingers in me again and my own belly spasmed once - a precursor or aftershock from earlier, I couldn't tell.

I snatched a breath, she moaned as I momentarily released her.

“Oh, oh please don't, please don't stop...” she begged, trailing off into a rasping little grunt of pleasure as I took her between my lips once more.

Her thighs were moist with sweat now, sticking slightly to my own overheating cheeks.

I could feel her, taste her all over my lips, my chin, my hand.

She clenched her fingers, knotting them tightly into my hair as she pushed me hard down against her.

“Erin...” she wailed.

“Mm...” I managed.

“Erin... love, I'm so close. I'm so close. Please fuck me, Erin, please... just... just fuck me...”

So I started to thrust my finger into her while tonguing on and around her; her legs spasmed and she began to let out little high-pitched gasps.

I added a second finger, trailed my tongue over and around the swollen hood of her wonderful little clit.

Her pussy pulsed on me; she let out a strangled little hiccough that turned into a low, almost pained wail.

She began to grind against me in spasmodic little jerks before she clenched her legs around me, pinning me to her; I felt her throbbing under my tongue and took that as my cue to drive my fingers hard and deep into her, laughing exultantly as she responded immediately.

She cried out; a quavering, breathy wail that faded swiftly to panting little whimpers timed to each fierce contraction of her stomach and hips and thighs.

She collapsed, legs and hands going slack, belly still shivering as I slowly eased out of her and kissed my way up over her wonderful stomach, between her breasts, and up to her lips.

She clasped her arms behind my neck and held me to her as we kissed, clinging tightly to me I slowly lowered my weight onto her and tucked my face into her neck.

“You're... really good at that...” she managed at last.

“Shut up and kiss me again,” I whispered.

So she did.

.:.

“Erin?” she said, softly, some time later.

I shifted slightly, enjoying the warm, comforting weight of her against my back.

“Erin?” she said again, more insistent.

“Yeah, babe?” I murmured.

“Do you think we're going to be... okay?”

“I do,” I said, without hesitation. “Somehow. Crazy as it sounds... you're the most important person in my life, and you were that long before tonight. So... I reckon we'll be alright.”

She tightened her arms around me and I felt the sigh she let out.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I'm going to hold you to that.”

“Just hold me like this and nothing else will ever matter to me.”

And I smiled to myself as I felt her lips brush the patch of skin behind my ear.

“So... what now?” she breathed.

“Well. For starters, I'm going to stash spare knickers at yours. And a toothbrush.”

“Oh? Planning to move in already?”

“Of course. I'm only with you for your couch,” I said, smirking to myself.

She bit my shoulder, gently, then kissed the sting away. “Tease,” she muttered.

“Yep. Unashamedly.”

“Erin? I was being serious, you know. I... I do need to know.”

I rolled over, found a comfortable spot on her arm, and stared up at her.

“Well? What would you like to happen now?” I said, softly.

“I... I want you around more. More than just once or twice a week. I... you... seeing you is the only lovely thing I have in my life right now.”

“We'll have to find you some other lovely things, then.”

I reached up, gently brushed a finger along her cheek. “But... I wouldn't mind seeing you more often either. But... it's going to have to be at yours because mine... well, lets just say I don't want to subject you to that. It's more akin to a prison than anything else.”

“Okay,” she breathed. “Mine it is.”

She found my hand and tangled it into hers.

“I... I know I sound silly and needy,” she said. “It's just... strange to be like this again. To feel... warm. Through and through. I missed this.”

“Mm. I know what you mean. Listen... I don't want to overstay my welcome, but... but I'd be more than happy to spend every night with you, you know.”

“Really?” she said, with a strange wistfulness.

“Oh God, yes. Sex, with you, every night? Sign me up. Immediately.”

She began to snort with laughter, then buried her face in between me and the pillow.

“Oh, you,” she wheezed, at last. “You're... impossible.”

“Impossibly yours.”

“Improbably, too.”

I reached out, put my hand to her chest, nestling it between the lovely swell of her breasts, over her heart.

“Not that improbably, really, when you stop and think about it. Clearly... some things are just meant to be.”

“Mm.”

She shifted closer.

“There are going to be a lot of smirks and comments on the way home tomorrow, just so you know.”

“I don't care,” I said.

I leaned in and kissed her, she sighed and shifted closer, touching her forehead to mine and melting every last little bit of me.

“Don't ever leave,” she breathed.

“I honestly wouldn't even know where to begin.”

“Erin?”

“Mm?”

“Make love to me like that again.”

“Ask nicely,” I whispered.

“Please,” she whispered back, with a little tremor in her voice.

So I slowly reached out, and down, and found her as she opened herself for me...

And did just that.

.:.

The lack of sleep was catching me at last. Hannah had had a voracious need to be kissed, and held, and touched.

As had I, I thought, smiling.

We'd staggered off the minibus to the good-natured cat-calls, the final “Have a nice shag!” still fading as Hannah's friends drove off.

She'd made me tea; we'd sat quietly, watching one another, holding hands. I'd had a stupid smile plastered to my face, and Hannah was still flushing every so often.

We ate a quiet and light mid-afternoon meal that we'd made side by side in her intimate little kitchen.

And then we'd cuddled on her couch and stared at her telly; I'd rested my head on her shoulder and she'd simply wrapped her arms around me and we'd slumped further and further down as Romcom followed silly Romcom.

Soon enough she was Big Spoon and I was in heaven.

We didn't say much - there was no need. My heart was full and I felt no pressing need to leave this new and glorious Eden.

Every now and then she'd brush her lips against the little patch of skin behind my ear that she'd worked out melted me.

And at some point her hand ended up under my loose-fitting jumper, beneath which there'd been not much of anything else at all. She'd found a breast, and then a nipple, and had settled down with a not-unhappy sigh.

And it had slowly become unbearable.

“I'm going to go shower,” I whispered, when I couldn't take it any more. Warm pink light from the evening sunset still lit the room, and I could see the flush on her cheeks when I levered myself up from my nest.

“So soon?” she said, pretending disappointment.

“I am so wet they're going to use me as a slipway,” I said, acerbically. “You've basically had me dialled up to seven for the last hour, and you know that.”

“But it's fun,” she said, smiling.

“I know it is, but I'm the one with the damp spot.”

“Not the only one.”

“Uh huh.”

I stripped out of my tracksuit pants, and tugged down my ruined briefs. “Honestly,” I said. I felt myself, shivered. “God. How do you do this to me?”

“Love."

I met her gaze and melted. “Oh you.”

A brief kiss, and I broke away. “No,” I declared. “I'm showering and that's all there is to it.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Totally. I like making you work for it.”

“So long as I get a reward,” she said, softly.

“Oh... trust me, you will.”

I blew her a kiss, enjoyed the lazy smile she gave in return, and quickly invaded her tiny but spotless bathroom. I showered - though it wasn't much of a shower, really - more like a rinse, but I felt grimy and I wanted to be clean.

For me. And for her.

I wrapped myself in the clean towel that had been hanging neatly behind the door and pattered through to her room to find rummage in my togbag for something clean to put on.

I unzipped it and spread the folds.

Then I paused.

The little velvet-lined box that held my Gran's ankh sat there, slightly askew, tangled in a pair of stockings I'd brought in case.

I reached down and picked it up, then tripped the catch.

Gran's ankh had always been my favourite item of her small collection of jewellery. Bought for her on a whim by Grandad during their long-ago honeymoon to Cairo, it had become her prized possession and single constant - especially once Grandad passed on.

She'd told me that it was a symbol for life.

She'd pressed it into my hands before we'd said goodbye for what I had not known would be the last time.

She would never have understood Hannah.

But somehow I knew in my bones that she would have adored her.

I stroked the tarnished silver gently with my fingertip.

Life...

The meaning felt strangely appropriate for this strange, new me.

So I discarded any idea of dressing, and simply lifted my ankh from its nest. I fastened the simple clip behind my neck and lifted my hair free so that it lay against my skin, dangling between my small breasts that my lover loved so much.

Gift-wrapping, came the thought, and I smiled.

I sat on Hannah's bed, and tucked my legs demurely up against myself.

She'd enter, and see me here, nude but for this one last thing.

Her faithful Erin, waiting for her.

“Hannah?” I called.

“Mhmm?” came her answer from the couch.

“Could you come here a minute?”

“Sure, babe, on my way.”

The soft pit-pat of her footfalls.

The pause, the quiet “Oh my God” as she saw me.

“Erin?” she added, confused. “Babe, is everything alright?”

I smiled.

“Come here and make love to me,” I said.

And, after a moment's more quiet, awestruck staring...

She did.