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“You want this, Weaver?” he asks, punctuating the words with thrusts into me. “You want me to fuck you hard? You like my cock inside you?”
If I could answer, it would be yes,yes, yes, but the hand which had been on my hip is now on my pussy, and he’s stroking my clit. I feel my arms start to quiver, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold myself up.
“You’re going to come for me now. Come for me now. Say it. Tell me your coming,” he demands. The force of his words, the unapologetic demand, his wet finger sliding over my clit in tight circles, his relentless, rock hard cock pounding inside me, it’s all too much. He’s right, I’m coming.
“I’m coming,” I yell. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
He pulls my hair harder, yanking my head back to him, and catches my lips in a crushing kiss. I moan into his mouth as I come, as the city lights outside the window burst in front of my eyes. I don’t know what’s real. I don’t know who I am. All I know is that my body feels like it could float above the earth, his hands and his cock impaling me are the only things tethering me to the ground.
His hand tightens on my hip and lets me know he’s close. I feel his thighs shaking behind me, and his jaw is tense, ragged breaths panting against my cheek.
“I’m going to come,” he says, and with a few last deep thrusts, he grunts in my ear, toppling us on to the bed, his hand still on my pussy, his cheek against mine.
We lay like that for a few minutes, coming down together, his body curled against mine. Chris smooths back my hair and plants a kiss on my temple. He inches down the bed and climbs down the ladder. Again I watch as he goes into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. I reach down and cup my pussy, feeling a delicious ache and thinking about what just happened. I stretch my arms over my head, languishing in how loose and relaxed I feel. My eyes take in the lights along the Seine, and I try to memorize every detail and the feeling I have in this moment. It will be a memory to sustain me when I return to New York. Part of me wants to give Chris my number feeling it would be crazy to pass up this guy when the chemistry has been so hot, but I know there isn’t a future with anyone in the next few months, not when I have to do what I plan. No one wants to be with a girl like that. I know that the next few months won’t be easy, and I realize the uncertainty of my future makes me appreciate the perfection of this present moment.
As long as Chris is in the bathroom, I take the opportunity to check my laptop, within reach on a small shelf next to the loft. I open it up and check my new page on the most popular cam girl platform, Sugar Girl. It looks perfect. I was lucky to be selected for their roster, and I know in just a few months, I’ll have enough money to pay back my debts and really go after my dreams. I laugh out loud as the thought of giving Chris my number passes through my head again. There is no way Chris would want to date a cam girl. He is definitely off limits.
“Hey, whatcha doing?” He’s back. I didn’t hear him climbing back up and I snap my laptop closed quickly, hoping he hasn’t seen the screen.
“Checking my email,” I say, maybe a little too quickly. He’s staring at me and it feels a little unsettling. “What are you looking at?”
“You. You’re really beautiful. And that was so fucking amazing I’m at a loss for words.”
He spoons himself around my body and draws the down blanket up and around our shoulders, rubbing softly on my hip as if trying to soothe the spot he’d so aggressively grabbed before.
“Is this okay?” he asks. “I mean, is it okay if I fall asleep here and spend the night?”
I think I say yes, or at least I intend to, but with his hand on my hip and his body pressed against mine, I drift off to sleep before even answering.
4
Chris
I sense the morning sun streaming through dormer windows behind my closed eyes. The bells of Notre Dame woke me up a few minutes ago. I can’t remember the last time I slept so well. I roll over and reach beside me, feeling for Weaver’s warm body, yearning to press up against her and put my morning wood to good use. All I find is an empty and cold space beside me. And an envelope. I take out the note inside:
