Nichy paced up and down Heathrow. Drew had wanted to stay with her, but she said no. She had a stopover before before she got to New York, and her mind wandered…
When her panties did come off, he did not ask her. He pulled them off roughly, slapped her bottom and clutched her hips as if for dear life. They fucked like it was life and death, Nichy wanted something that mirrored what she had at home. They barely spoke in the bar. Their lust was so thick, words were liquified and useless between them.
She did not know what he was running from as he buried himself in her, but he fucked with an intensity that scared and captivated her.
And wandered more…
Nichy and Tyler looked anxiously about the bathroom, him wanting to touch her as badly as she wanted to be touched. A quick glance to the door, before she followed him into the stall he had just left.The porcelain urinal reminded her of the Marcel Duchamps one, and she closed her eyes as he did indeed touch her. One finger, two, three. Nichy loved when he fucked her like that, and she thought about the time Graham fisted her. She trusted Tyler enough to explore that with him, but she did not want to tell him a lot more about Graham. Her relationship with Graham had detailed things that still aroused her deeply, but that she would not want to do again with anyone but him.
Alone in the airport, she shook her head from her thoughts. Andrew flitted through her mind, and she flitted away and to him like a moth.
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