At the hotel they shower together. He lays her then on the bed and kneels to her, puts his mouth between her legs, and she is very wet. The scent of her is blunt and maddening. He turns her now onto her stomach and kisses her, tastes her everywhere, and this scent is sweet, distant, as a taste in the air of something baking. His mind abandons him. My handbag, she says breathlessly. He finds it and passes it to her; she rummages; she passes a tube to him, and presses a pillow down under her hips. The cream is warm and with his finger he spreads it around and inside her and on himself, unthinking, until it is everywhere and has taken on the smell of her. The backs of her thighs have become pink. His belly is tight, his whole body, a painful urgency, and gently, with one, two fingers he makes her whole face red, her throat; and it feels to him as if by magic, by only his body eased into hers, all at once she is crying out and cursing with joy.
Daniel Stephensen, One, two
https://forgetlings.net/
