A moan. Just an small gasp that felt too loud in this dark and big space. Where eyes couldn´t even difference the surroundings.
It felt like if none was there.
Not a sound. Not a voice. Not even the slight sound of breath.
Touches that kept you sane. There was someone else other than you. Someone who´s caresses felt like heaven for seconds. But just in minutes, turned into daggers in your skin. Reminding you of the little time you had.
The little time he wanted to be with you.
The trail of saliva in your neck left by his lips send goosebumps down your entire body; something was pulsating inside of you. Warm. You knew the feeling well. But for some reason..
The way his hand groped your hip and waist as the other holds one of your hands in his; caressing it slowly and gently, like trying to soothe you, to stop the tears that tried to leave your eyes.
" I don´t want my sheets to be stained "
He said that the first time you asked that. His face never betraying his words.
Not even in nights like this.
It was a routine. A simple one you could follow and did. Intimacy, cleaning and then leaving at the next morning.
Not even a bit of aftercare.
The cold of his bed when he left earlier didn´t erase the feeling of his hands.
His thighs against yours. Muscles caressing the fat of your body always left you out of breath.
Kneading, touching, groping, squeezing, caressing or even just holding it was the best feeling you would ever imagine.
Something warm started pouring inside you, sticky as you always remembered.
From your throat escaped a whine. Fastly covered by his lips on yours. Their sweet test shutting your eyes tightly. Not that it would make a difference.
The savor of his tongue on yours was like a a dance. Passionate, warmth and slowly changing the rhythm as your bodies touched.
His free hand held your face carefully, aiming you more directly at his mouth. You could even swear he was caressing it. An soft squeeze in your cheek almost made you jump; if it wasn't for his load immediately going inside you.
Then loud sound of climax was kept between only you two. Your hand against hid chest just the feel the rumble of his pecs. He was groaning. Panting even. An slight smile appeared on your face. Felt nice customers had what they wanted.
The separation was almost immediate. The warmth inside you disappearing abruptly. An empty feeling inside you as he, aswell, took his hands and body away from yours.
The blanket fell slowly from his body. Letting you see a sight you only had when your eyes resisted against closing.
His black eyelashes fleeting as he blinked. The deep darkness of his eyes felt like an never ending void. His hair, messy and disheveled as drops of sweat glistened against skin, made him look like an Greek god.
Your eyes couldn't hold on for long, the need for rest was consuming in a way you couldn´t stop. Before you lose all of your senses, you saw how his hands slowly took the edge of the blanket and put it on top of you. His lips moving, but, you couldn´t understand what he said.
You wonder if tomorrow would be different, but the expected coldness of the morning didn´t left you any hope.
Change was something he couldn´t understand. Or, doesn´t like to.
This was it. This should be it.
He needed something to distract himself with.
After every match, every practice, his head swirled with thoughts; aswell when he was reading his books, talking with teammates.
He just needed something.
He can´t say he liked the idea of having an stranger in his bed.
No words exchanged, just touches and caresses. It was enough for him.
He didn´t mind at first your condition of having the place totally blacked out.
He didn't get it, but, let you keep doing it. After all, he enjoyed his time with you.
Now he still doesn't get it. And he minds, too much.
The first time the idea of turning the lights on appeared on his mind like an intrusive tought; was your body as soft as it felt? Was as big as his mind could imagine?.
And he actually doesn't regret it. When he turned the lights on, he saw something that he expected, and even like that, his heart beated. Too fast. Too out of nowhere.
Since that day. He started doing this little routine. Every time the session, how he liked to call it, ended. He waited, waited until your breath was in match with your heartbeat and your body was like one in his bed. In those moments, he turned the lights one and stared. Stared like your body as if he was staring at one of the finest sculptures in France. None of them were a match. Not just because there were not such things as bigger bodies sculptures in the museum.
But because in his eyes you were truly unmatchable.
Tonight, he stepped further.
His hand, big and rough suddenly turned into a feather. A light touch against your skin. From your face to your feet. His eyes marveled at the path that he traced every night. One that he knows by memory. By heart. That there aren´t left any surprises or expectations. That it´s time for a change.
Every time, something is different. A path that he knows well suddenly has even more things that he hasn´t discovered.
He can´t help but want to know more.
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