Nichy was going to London for the weekend, and she did not even have to pay for the airfare because her last trip had afforded her the frequent flyer miles that she needed.
This airplane flight did not involve any shenanigans between her and Carole.
Nichy collapsed onto her Carole’s guest bed as soon as she got there. She was tired, and a mess.
She texted him, what was he doing that night.
If you were in London lass…
Nichy paused before she texted him.
I were, I mean I AM in London…
Later sprawled under Drew, it was almost nicer than sex, to have his body curled over hers when they had been an ocean apart. But Drew looked like he did when they sexted, except now it looked like insert her in his mirror.
High on his scent, Nichy practically dissolved under him. She did not want to move, because she was afraid she would wake up…
Even though she knew it was not a dream.
They were together, but it felt surreal. Sex between them was always like life and death. Her eyes fell on a Max Ernst print in Drew’s bedroom. She discovered how much he loved art when they were in Paris. His bedroom was filled with prints, and she felt like she was in a museum. Of art, and because of what happened between them on display for private consumption.
They knew what happened between them…
The prints knew, and the mirror knew.
His hand between her legs, clutched her sex for either life or death. She was breathless, as she heard how wet she was as he played with her. Nichy remained still because she did not want him to lose the spot where she was about to burst.
Nichy closed her eyes, and ignored the elephant in the room—the one on the Ernst print, and any others.
More Masturbation Monday here:
max ernst via wikipedia