Tell me about her

He came in with peonies, which is a joke only a man who loves a florist would spend money on. I had not asked for them. I had not asked for anything this week. I put them in the gray pitcher and kissed him the way I kiss him on an ordinary day, long, my hands still a little green from the stems.

He ran a bath without announcing it. That is one of his filths, the care. He washed my hair. I sat between his knees and tried not to grind my cunt back against his cock, and failed, and he laughed into my wet neck and told me to wait. I waited. I am good at that when it is him. My skin was already too loud. The water, his fingers, the word wait. I could have come from the rinse if he had let me rub my clit. He did not. He dried me himself, put me in the robe, and sat me on the sofa like I was something he had decided to be gentle with.

Then he told me about Rachel. Dinner, her place, the green dress, the way she asked him to talk her through it and then stopped being able to talk. Tell me the rest, I said. He did. His hand was on my knee, over the robe, not under it yet, and I was shaking. I told him I am ridiculous for him. He opened the robe and slid two fingers into my cunt and I was already soaked, sorry and not sorry. She came twice, he said. I came on the sentence after that, hard, grabbing his wrist, cunt squeezing his fingers, and I said don't stop, please, keep fucking me, I can go again. He fucked my cunt with his fingers until the second one, slower, patient in the way that undoes me, and he kept Rachel in the room by talking. I loved him for not making it a test. I loved her a little too, for being good to him on a Thursday.

He carried me to bed when my legs stopped being useful. I asked if I could suck his cock. He said yes. I did, grateful, messy, looking up because I like his face when he is being looked after. He came on my tongue. I swallowed and said thank you, and then I asked, quiet, whether Rachel had swallowed too. He said yes. I smiled into his stomach. Good, I said. She should have what she wants. So should you. He stayed the night without me asking. In the morning I woke up already wet, put his hand on my cunt, and said please again. He called me his good girl. I can take that from him. I am twenty-seven, and I like the praise, and I came on his hand before the coffee.