“Tell me how to fix this. Tell me what to do and I swear to god I’ll do it.”
One of Zoey’s arms wrapped across my back and the other around my neck as she used me to lever herself up, hurling into an orgasm. My Ni?a’s lips parted and her head tossed back as she slammed into me, providing a deluge of her sweet essence as she came. Her little hands clawed at me and I succumbed to my own ravishing orgasm, trying to anchor the both of us on my shaking legs and quivering spine. I’d forgotten about how hard she made me come. How racked my body turned when shooting into her.
“Fuck, Zo! The shit you do to me…” I could barely cry out.
I twisted my hips, dragging out the last of my release then lay there listening to her catching her racing breaths as I struggled to do the same. I stripped out of my clothes, hardly moving an inch. After removing her tank, and discarding the stained condom, I gathered Zoey in my arms and padded us over to her garden tub behind me. Being the selfish and manipulative motherfucker I only knew to be with Zoey, I approved the tub, being sure it was a size I could fit into. I turned on and adjusted the faucet then sat us in there and let the water build.
Zoey remained quiet the entire time I washed her, being sure to rinse her well before drying her. I wanted so badly to know what she was thinking, what she was feeling, but couldn’t sense the appropriate time to ask. She seemed subdued, detached. I didn’t know if this was her post-coital state or what, but I was satisfied having just convened with her. Not only did I need that, but she did, too. We needed it. Zoey was going way off track with her anger and distance.
I left the bathroom, giving her time to take care of needs for Mother Nature and went back into her bedroom to clean up the food she’d left out. I put her soup into the fridge and ice cream back into the freezer making quick work of it, wanting to get back and check on Zoey. When I returned, she was crawling feebly into bed, her hair a messy display of wild waves, sending a rare sensation straight to my groin.
I approached the bed timidly like a fucking dweeb. I didn’t know what to do. I’d already been forceful. Admittedly, I was emotionally drained myself. Nonetheless, I needed to know if we were out of the woods. I waited.
“You can leave now, Stenton,” she informed hoarsely, from the screaming I was sure.
“Come again? Leave?”
She wouldn’t even fucking look at me. Shit! Fuck out of the woods; we haven’t traveled past the damn acacia!
With heavy lids focusing on something in the distance, she muttered, “No more, Stenton. You’re like black magic to me. You blacken my soul. I’m done.”
Heat flushed my entire frame, pulse raced, and the cavity of my chest felt null. I couldn’t speak. How do you respond to that? For a while my feet were too heavy to move. There had to be more. She had to remit the weight of her cold words. Nothing.