I think we both needed the pleasure that bordered on pain. The urgent taking and giving, the violent coming together of raw need. When he slapped my ass I cried out his name, coming instantly, the orgasm lighting me on fire even as he continued to slam into me, never letting up. He felt huge, too big to fit inside me, but I took him gladly, thrusting my hips against his as his hand stung my ass with another slap. I bit into the pillow, the pleasure and pressure building again so intensely I felt I would explode from within my skin.
When he came, it sent me spiraling into another orgasm. We collapsed onto the bed, him rolling over so as not to crush me. I crawled into his arms and listened to his heartbeat slow to normal, the thumping sounds helping me block thoughts of the day ahead and focus on the moment and the feel of his fingertips brushing against my arm. I trailed my hand over his hard abs, admiring his sculpted body.
But then my phone chirped, a warning that we had to leave. I sat up. "It's time."
He ran his hand over my leg. "I know. I just wish it wasn't."
We dressed quickly and left for the cemetery. Jon would be buried in the family plot. Ash, when hearing about his brother’s final resting place, had made it clear he would be cremated, not embalmed, and that he wanted nothing to do with his family plot. I hoped I'd never have to deal with his funeral arrangements—although I felt selfish wishing that, since it meant he'd have to deal with mine. Or perhaps we could simply die together as a really old couple just after orgasm. That's seemed like a good way to go.
I'd expected there to be a graveside burial and memorial in a church, but the Davenports had opted to include everything at the graveside, which meant it was crowded. We had seats reserved in the front, as part of the family. I wondered if they'd been tempted to leave me out of that spot, and what Ash would have done, but whoever had made the arrangements had avoided that confrontation, much to my relief. Today already felt like an ordeal requiring superhuman strength.
We sunk into our seats, sweat already dripping down my back from the unforgiving summer sun. A pastor began the service talking about Jon and all he'd accomplished in his “short life.” Once again I was surprised to discover charitable organizations he'd been active in and volunteer work I hadn't known about. From the look on Ash's face, I'd say he didn't know about some of those contributions to society, either.
When the pastor opened up the service for people to speak, Mr. Davenport stood and gave a brief and emotionally anemic farewell to his son. Mrs. Davenport tried to speak after, but her sobs drowned out everything she said and she eventually gave up and sat back down.
Ash got up next and held in tears that made his eyes gloss over as he took a deep breath and spoke. "Jon and I didn't always get along, especially as adults. We chose different life paths and sometimes that created conflict between us. But he was my brother, and that meant something. I wish I could have one more chance to tell him that none of it mattered. Our differences, our conflicts, our life choices… none of it matters. We're blood, he and I. It's a bond that isn't easy to toss aside, and I loved him even when he pissed me off. I'll always remember him as a towheaded little kid following me around and begging me to play ball with him. I should have said yes more often. Should have taken the time to let my kid brother join me. I was too busy to be bothered and then we were grown and it was too late to go back and change things. But if I could, I would."
Ash closed his eyes. "I'll miss you, Jon. I hope you find peace on the other side."
I had tears running down my cheeks when he came to sit down. But still I stood, compelled to give some testament to the man I'd known. I cleared my throat, looking at the crowd of people who had joined together to say goodbye to Jon.
"Jon would have become my brother the day he died, if things had gone differently. I'd spent some time with him before the wedding, getting to know him better, but still there were so many things I didn't know, things that I'm just now starting to discover about someone I consider family. One thing I will remember about Jon is how he always tried to make me laugh, no matter how bad my day was. He cared about people and was trying to make a difference in the world. And he did. Each of us here today is a testament to the impact Jon had on our lives, and so he will always live inside us."
As my eyes wandered over the crowd, someone skulking in the back caught my attention. A hoodie covered their head and sunglasses covered their face. I couldn't even tell if it was a man or woman as they hid behind others, but something about them made me shiver.
The silence pulled me out of my fear, and I tried to remember what I was saying. "I'll miss Jon, both the Jon I knew and the Jon I would have gotten to know were he still here."
A woman pushed her way through the friends and family, her belly bulging in pregnancy, her face streaked with mascara. I couldn't believe she risked coming.
"None of you knew Jon the way I did!" screamed Molly. "He made love to me. He gave me this child." She cupped her belly, the black spaghetti strap falling off her shoulder and exposing part of her breast.