Kimmie wraps up her hot storyline today, basking in the afterglow of amazing sex. I'm sorry to see this series end! As always, I'm proud to say: here's Kimmie.
Reputation, the conclusion
A while later he got up, sticky and smelling like sex. He walked to the bathroom, starting the shower to get the water hot. “You coming?” he called, holding the curtain out for her. She shook her head. “In a minute.” She needed to just sit for a moment. She felt a delicious lassitude in her mind and her muscles, and she didn’t want to stand up yet.
She held her hands to her face, breathing in the aroma of him. She hated cleaning up after sex sometimes. She preferred to hold on to his scent. It was fun to go about her business, catching a whiff of him every once in a while. She could smell his juices as well as her own, and when she moved her head, she could smell his cologne in her hair, too. Or maybe it was his deodorant. Or perhaps both. She smiled.
She lay there in the mess of the bed, staring at the ceiling. The sheet was wet under her back. She shifted to a more comfortable spot. The ceiling fan had cooled and dried the juices on her skin, and several sticky spots pulled small hairs on her body as she moved. Her shoulders were stiff and her whole lower area still throbbed. She smiled as she heard him splashing around in the shower, singing to himself as he scrubbed. She held her hand to her face again and breathed.
It was intense, she thought, to give herself up that way. It wasn’t even about the parts involved, although in the moment, the dirtier and nastier it was, the better. She had really let go with him, let herself just be her body and give it whatever it wanted. She had turned her social brain off, stopped the very part of her that kept her protected and safe. She let herself be completely open and defenseless. It was a good thing, she told herself, and it was. But it was also scary, to think that she could let herself be so exposed and raw like that. He had fucked her ass, for goodness sake, her truly most private place, the dirtiest and nastiest place he could go. And she liked it.
But it left her feeling a little fragile, a little vulnerable. The light breeze of the fan brought with it a dusting of logic, settling over her like a thin fog. She shook her head. She didn’t want logic yet. She didn’t want reason or sense or brains right now. She wanted to roll and wallow in her emotional high, reveling in her sore, swollen body parts, in her own surrender. She rolled onto her stomach, burying her head in the pillow. The breeze tickled her ass. That was better. She concentrated on the cool air brushing her hot skin.
The singing got louder and closer. He kissed her cheek, burrowing into her neck. What a fucking woman, he thought. He slapped her ass, pleased as she screeched and started laughing. She rolled over and looked at him. He still couldn’t believe his luck. How the hell did he happen to stumble on such a wonderful woman? She liked sex and she wasn’t afraid to show it, and that was the best thing EVER. He leaned over and kissed her again, looking into her bright sparkly eyes. Yes. This was just the best.
He pulled her up to her feet and led her to the shower. He helped her in and let the hot water stream over them. He held her face and kissed her deeply. She loved how just that one kiss could make her feel like everything was good, like everything was all right. He was so happy and cheerful. Her feeling of vulnerability washed down the drain. This might be one of the best days of my life, she thought. She felt strong and energized. She was ready to take on the world, to go out and do whatever needed to be done – or perhaps to just go back and have more sex. Or both, she grinned. After all, she had his reputation to think of.
copyright 2008-2011, www.sexyprime.typepad.com; PARTIAL reposts only permitted with link back to original article on SexyPrime.