Afterglow

I knock once, and the door swings open. His eyes are wide and for a moment he just stares, drinking me in, like he's not sure I'm real. The hallway behind him smells of toast and stale lager, voices rising from the sitting room. One of his flatmates pops his head out, gives me a slow, knowing look, then vanishes again. He steps aside silently and I glide past him. My dress catches the light, short and sheer in places, clingy enough to make it obvious I haven't put on anything underneath.

His bedroom door closes with a soft click. He's in joggers, no shirt, and the moment I glance down I see it. The bulge is already forming, straining toward me. There's a flicker of nerves in his expression, but the desire's louder. He's barely holding it together. I tilt my head and let the words fall out.

"I want to know every filthy thing you've ever dreamed about. I want to learn your body like a language and make you come so hard you forget your own name."

He swallows hard but doesn't speak. I step forward and take his hand, guide it to the hem of my dress and underneath. His palm finds the heat between my thighs and I gasp. I wasn't ready for how much that would thrum through me. One stroke, just one and I almost break.

He feels it and smirks a little. Confidence ignites in his face as he leans in. We kiss and it's deep, messy, breathless. His hands tremble slightly as he lifts my dress over my head. I'm bare for him now and his breath catches in his throat. The pink waves of my hair fall over my chest as I push him back onto the bed and climb into his lap.

"I want you to go slow," I whisper as my lips brush his. "To feel every inch of you so you can ruin me in slow motion."

He groans low in his throat as he slides into me, slow and careful. Then deeper. He finds the spot almost instantly, like my body was shaped to take him. The stretch and pressure starts to build in waves and I bite down on his shoulder, already trembling. He moves with perfect control, every thrust tuned to my reaction. I don't stand a chance. The orgasm rises fast, fierce and I cry out his name as I come, my voice breaking the air. It's loud, wild and real.

But I'm not done. I lean into his ear, breath hot. "You don't know how many times I've made myself come thinking about you," my teeth graze the edge of his jaw. "I want to feel everything you've got. Show me. Don't hold back."

He grabs my hips, digging in harder and his rhythm shifts. He's rougher and more chaotic, the feeling whiteing out his brain. I study his face, the twist of it, the way his breathing changes. He's close, tense, desperate. Then he breaks. Head falling back, jaw tight, a raw sound torn straight from his chest as he comes. His body convulses, hands gripping the sheets as he unloads hard, breath ragged, muscles twitching beneath my hands.

We collapse into each other, soaked in sweat, high on hormones.

I pull away gently and start dressing. My legs shake as I step back into my clothes. I catch him watching me from the bed, eyes glazed, chest still rising and falling.

"I've got to go," I murmur.

He sits up slowly, nodding like he's waking from a dream. He walks me to the door, silent, thoughtful. We pause. Voices spill from the lounge, laughter and game noise humming through the walls. He glances at me, like there's more he wants to say but can't find the words. Instead, he kisses me. It's tender and slow, not hungry this time.

Then, he opens the door and lets me go.

...

The bedroom still smells like sex and sweat. I stare at the door for a few seconds before moving. My body's heavy, flinching with the aftershock.

In the kitchen I grab a bottle of Lucozade and down half of it. My throat's dry. I'm trying to make sense of what just happened. I hear shouting from the sitting room, the lads playing FIFA or Mortal Kombat or some other war zone. I walk in, still dazed, and collapse onto the arm of the sofa. Aaron looks over and nods, eyes going wide as he grins.

"Jesus. You look like you've just survived a hostage situation."

Josh howls. "Or got your soul sucked out by a demon with great tits."

"Bit of both," I say, and my grin betrays me.

Tom chucks a crisp at my head. "You've got that post-shag glow. She's real, then?"

Aaron whistles. "Mate. That woman. She's like... ridiculous. How did you even...?"

I just shrug. "She came to me."

All three freeze.

"She came to you? Oh, piss off," Aaron groans.

Josh shakes his head. "That's some mythical shit. A hot older woman just turns up to ruin you and we're here sat in our pants inhaling Doritos."

Laughter explodes around the room, but under it, there's a change of tone. They're not just taking the piss, they're curious and a little in awe.

Tom leans forward, his voice low. "No, but seriously. What was it actually like?"

I go quiet, not because I'm embarrassed, but just I genuinely don't know how to explain it without sounding mental.

"She wasn't like other girls," I say eventually. "She didn't flirt. Didn't ask for anything.

Just looked at me like I was already hers. And then... fuck. I've never... I don't know. It was intense. All of her."

They fall quiet and Aaron scratches the back of his head.

"She messed you up, didn't she?"

I nod, still grinning, I can't help it, even though my cheeks now ache.

Josh shakes his head. "You lucky bastard."

"Yeah," I say, finally leaning back, my body still humming. "I'm very fucking lucky."

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