Page 13

“I know, me neither.”

Martin

Lillian’s words spurred me on, and I redoubled my efforts, sliding upwards against her with every stroke so my pubic bone ground against her clitoris. She was getting close, I could tell by the fluttering of her pussy.

I was desperate to mark her as mine, and just painting her womb with my cum wasn’t going to be enough, I could tell already, so I lowered my head, sunk my teeth into the juncture of her neck, and sucked hard.

It was such a primal urge, this urge to let the world know that Lillian was mine, but as soon as I sucked her flesh into my mouth she came with a wail. She shuddered between me and the door, my name on her lips, and when I lifted my head, her face was the very picture of ecstasy.

The sight of it made my balls draw up and I spurted my cum inside with several hard thrusts of my hips. When I’d finally emptied myself, I lowered my head to her neck again, kissing the rather impressive mark I’d left there, while we caught our breath.

“Holy shit.”

It was the same thing she’d said the first time we had sex. It made me feel kind of proud of myself.

I stepped back, carrying her to the bed with our bodies still attached, her hands clutching my shoulders. I sat on the bed, and Lillian straddled my lap as I pressed a soft kiss against her lips.

“I thought it was just the fantasy of that night,” she said softly. “The fancy dress, the make-up, the dancing...it seemed too good to be true. But it wasn’t, was it?”

I shook my head. “If anything, it was better the second time.”

“Well, technically this was like our fourth time, maybe fifth, I lost count that night.” Her voice was teasing, and I loved this fun side of her.

“I don’t know if we’ll have enough time to beat that number tonight,” I cautioned.

“There’s always next time.”

I squeezed her tight. “I hope so.”

“By the way, did you give me a hickey?”

I gave her a sheepish look. “Maybe?”

“You’d better hope no one sees that, buddy, or we’re gonna have words.”

“I’d rather have sex.”

One month later...

“How are things with Lillian?” Maria asked after the kids went to bed.

“Good.”

I paused for just a second too long, and Maria jumped on it. My sister had always been intuitive, and given that she was my best friend, she could tune into my emotions pretty well.

“What? What’s wrong?”

I got up and went to the high cabinet over the refrigerator, returning with a bottle of tequila. Maria jumped up to get glasses. We always had our most important discussions over tequila. We’d been close even as kids, but when she moved in to help parent my kids, our relationship had deepened even more.

I poured us each a shot as I considered the best way to answer the question.

“Things are good, but they suck at the same time.”

“What do you mean?” Maria took a sip of her tequila. We’d long ago graduated to the expensive kind that was meant for sipping, instead of the cheap stuff you knocked back in one gulp with lime and salt.

“We text all the time—.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed you’re getting text thumb,” my sister teased. “You’ll probably have to learn how to text with more than two fingers.”