“Wake up,” I heard a voice say. It was him. Mo.
“I’m sorry, I must’ve…”
“Gonna go workout,” he said, “wanna come? I can get you in.”
“I don’t have anything to wear,” I said.
“I can grab you some shorts and a T-shirt. That oughta do.”
He was being kind of sweet.
“I don’t even know if I can walk after that,” I said.
He either pretended not to know to what I was referring, or he was just dumb. Or numb.
“Come with me,” he said, “I’ll hook you up.”
I found my panties and bra and followed him into the bedroom, where he dug some clothes for me out of the drawer: some running shorts and an old Mammoth Gorilla T-Shirt.
“You like them?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said.
He was quite a bit younger than me but apparently, we had the same taste in music.
“Thank you,” I said and leaned in to kiss him. He actually kissed me back.
“But what about my feet?” I said, “Can’t workout in heels.”
“Oh fuck,” he said, partly because he hadn’t thought about it but also because I was being that girl. The pain in the ass girl. The girl you liked to fuck but that was about it.
“Why don’t we just drop by my place,” I said, smiling. I thought I might have shoes in the trunk but I wanted to see what he would do, if he would go along with me all the way across town so I could get sneakers.
“Won’t your husband be there?” he said.
“He’s out of town, like always,” I said with an eye roll. “But you’ll have to meet him eventually, don’t you think?”
“Not if I can help it,” he said under his breath.
I drove us, barefooted, back to my house.
“Coming in?” I asked.
“Thought you were just grabbing shoes,” he said.
“Well, it’d be rude if I didn’t invite you in,” I said.
His powerful hands pinned my legs back as he thrust his endowment into me repeatedly. I was coming like a freak on his dick, which was covered in my creamy slime.
Finally, he pulled out and shot his load on my belly, giving his remnants a good slap after he was done. Just take that, he said without saying it. I conquer you again.
“You just…just wanted to fuck again,” he said.
“So?” I said. “You didn’t mind.”
“I think you’re corrupting me,” he said.
Was he really trying to get emotional on me? I was apparently working on him. Wearing him down. I didn’t want to do that. I wanted the big dumb insensitive meathead. That kind of dynamic was easier to navigate. I wouldn’t, couldn’t love him. I doubted I could even love anyone for real considering my history.
I rolled off the bed with him still dripping off of me and went to find a towel.
I cleaned up and went back to him where he lay on my marital bed.
“I smell like sex,” I said.
“We both do,” he said, “but don’t worry. Soon we’ll smell like sweat and sex. Grab your shoes. Let’s go.”
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