If you attempt to purchase condoms, you went to school with the checker, are related to the checker, or they are friends of your parents. It’s just one of the 4,724 reasons I want to leave Athens.
My thoughts consuming all of my attention, I don’t remember the drive home. I really need to be more careful. As I pull myself from my car, I barely notice my mother’s car is not in the driveway. Instead of cursing her as I begin to worry, I trudge up the sidewalk, in the unlocked front door, and down to my room. Huffing, I dramatically throw myself onto my bed. I stare at my ceiling for a couple of minutes.
I can’t be here. It feels like the walls close in and the ceiling drops to crush me. I snag a bottle of water from the refrigerator, a quilt from the back of the sofa, and escape the house with all of its formerly happy memories now erased by my mother’s addiction. As my feet follow the path I’ve taken hundreds of times, I allow myself to breath in the humid night air. Although it cooled twenty degrees from today’s high, it’s still nearly 80 degrees. I love summer nights. The bullfrogs croak loudly in the nearby pond. Crickets sing from the grass below my feet. Lightning bugs twinkle like the millions of stars in the midnight blue sky. On the way to my favorite spot, my mood lightens fractionally.
I scale the chain-link fence to enjoy my safe-haven. I spread my quilt near the base of the large oak tree in the center of the cemetery. I lay on my blanket, my eyes taking in the stars visible just outside the canopy of my tree, desperately wishing I wasn’t alone in this moment. Only one person knows of my special spot and considering the excruciatingly quiet ride from the river to my car, I doubt he’ll venture here tonight.
I believe everything happens for a reason. I feel if something is meant to be, opportunities will continue to present themselves until it occurs. People enter and exit our lives not by chance but by fate. It was fate that caused me to bump into Hamilton in the hallway in middle school. Fate threw us into several classes together. Then, fate sealed our friendship by revealing we share the same special spot at the cemetery where we found we lived on farms on opposite sides of it.
I try to convince myself that I am glad Hamilton will not be sharing this space with me tonight. I realize I need time to figure out how to undo the damage that I caused by asking a favor of my best friend. I only have eleven hours to undo the mess I made. Lying alone under my tree, surrounded by the headstones, is all I need while I search for remedies. I text Adrian. When she doesn’t reply, I assume she’s still at the party. I resign myself to the fact that I am alone in finding my solution to my request of Hamilton.
Saying goodbye to him tomorrow scares me in ways I never thought it would. He was to be my nearest and dearest until we were real adults with real jobs out in the real world. He entered my life for a reason. I would not have survived losing my dad and my mother’s subsequent downward spiral without him by my side. I’ve leaned on him so much that the thought of my upcoming life changes without him causes panic.
Focus. How can I fix this? How can I fix us? I can’t claim I consumed alcohol, and it was the alcohol talking. I can’t play it off as a joke gone wrong since I didn’t try to laugh it off in his presence. I could claim it was a dare, Adrian dared me to approach him on his last night in Athens. I’m not convinced he’d buy that. Think. Think. Think!
I sit up to sip from my water bottle, tilting my head to the side. I hear it, my favorite sound in the world, the only thing missing from this beautiful summer’s night graces my ears. Whip-poor-will, Whip-poor-will. Usually only heard at dusk, I am thrilled this bird chose the middle of the night to sing. Whip-poor-will, Whip-poor-will. It’s music to my ears. I lay back on my elbows, enjoying the entire setting. The warmth, the humidity, the sounds, the smells, the location, I allow it all to caress my soul.
Crack. Snap. I dart up at the sounds of something approaching. I turn my head, trying to decipher the direction of its approach. I’m somewhat safe within the chain-link fence. Fear prickles the hair on the back of my neck as I realize it is not an animal approaching.
Fuck a duck! It’s Hamilton. As much as I want to undo the mess I created, I hoped I had a bit more time to come up with a strategy. As he approaches the fence to enter our safe place, I scramble to find words to greet him.
“Hey,” he greets, placing his blanket next to mine.
“Hey.”
Several long, quiet moments pass as we lie staring at the night sky.
“I’m gonna miss this.” Hamilton’s words are a punch to my gut. I pull my eyes from the heavens as I hear the rustling of Hamilton turning on his side to face me. “I’m gonna miss you.”
“In a year, you’ll be wearing a suit, riding in a car service, jetting all over the states and around the world.” I turn on my side to face him. “You’ll be so citified, you’ll laugh at your redneck youth, your redneck friends, and the country life you once led. You’ll enjoy blonde arm-candy everywhere you go. You’ll be well on your way to a million-dollar house with a million-dollar family.” And you’ll forget all about me, I think to myself. My words leave an acrid taste in my mouth.
Hamilton’s laughter pierces the night. I love his laugh. It’s a full belly laugh. I’m gonna miss it.
“I may live in the big city. I may travel by jet, but I will never be citified.” In the moonlight, I see traces of his smile. “I will always drive a truck. I will never enjoy arm-candy; if I make millions, I will invest for my future rather than spend it quickly, and I will never go a week without speaking to you.” He presses the tip of my nose with his index finger.
I want to believe him, but I know friends drift apart after high school. Long distances between us will probably cause us to lose touch. His busy ball season and my course load will tug us in different directions.
“When my father died, and things were tough on the farm,” his words and eyes hold me captive, “you refused to let me quit baseball to help Mom with the work. You’re my number one fan.” He chuckles. “You’re the one that pushed me to put my name into the draft. I am who I am because of you. No matter what changes come in the upcoming year, I will not let you slip away.”
I want to believe him. I want to keep him in my life forever. I need his friendship even at a distance.
“Come here,” he prompts, pulling me tight to his chest.
With my face pressed to him, my nostrils fill with his masculine scent. Taking a deep inhale, I save it to memory.
“Did you just sniff me?” He laughs.
“Maybe.”
I feel his laughter vibrate through his chest. I extricate myself from his hug, placing several inches between us. I need to see his face. I want to see his dark brown eyes.
Hamilton sighs. “I was serious about the promise you made me tonight.”
Oh crap! Are we going to discuss his promise and my favor now? Fuck a duck! “I promised. I will make an effort and even send you proof.”
“I don’t need proof,” he states. “You promised; that’s all I need. I might remind you every now and then, but proof isn’t necessary. Your word is all I need.” He places his right hand on my forearm. “I need to ask something else from you. Tomorrow, at my house, with my mom, I need you to promise not to cry.”
Judging by his reaction, I know my eyes bug out.
“My mom is really struggling with my leaving so soon. She’s going to be a mess. I need you to be the strong one. I need you to help me. I’m going to attempt to make a quick exit. I think the longer I draw it out, the harder it will be for her.”
I nod as words are caught behind the tears burning the back of my eyes and throat. I can do this for him. I can keep it together until the dust from his truck billows on the lane. I cannot promise to hold them off after that. I roll to my back, needing our surroundings to calm me. Hamilton mimics my movements.
“Hear my whippoorwill?” I ask, moving on to lighter topics. “You won’t hear those in Des Moines or Chicago.”
“I hear your annoying little friend,” he teases. “He’s probably warning you it’s too late to be out and to go home.”
“I can’t go home.” I confess what he already knows to be true.
“Not any better, huh?”
“She’s staying out later and later,” I admit. “She’s out much later than the bars stay open. I don’t want to even think of what that means.”
“It’s harsh, but you can’t help her if she refuses the help.” Hamilton’s words ring true but do nothing to dissuade my guilt. “I can’t help but think your life will start when you leave that house. You’ll be free of her tirades and binges, no longer spending every minute at home worrying for her safety.”
“True,” I agree. “I worry that without me around, she’ll hurt herself or others while under the influence. I’d like to think knowing I’m at home, a tiny part of her brain worries about me. With me gone, she will have nothing to guilt her into sober moments.”
I don’t know how long he’s been doing it, but I notice Hamilton’s fingers playing with my loose tendrils. We’ve shared emotional discussions in the past. This touch, his actions, seem much more intimate.
Turning my head towards him and into his hand, I look up through my lashes to find him gazing at me. He doesn’t withdraw his hand. Instead, it cups my jaw while his thumb caresses my cheek.
“Are you nervous?” I ask, trying to make the moment less awkward.
“I’m excited, not so much nervous,” Hamilton admits. “They’ve scouted me for more than a year. They have faith in me, so I just need to keep doing what I’m doing and see where it leads.” He shrugs his shoulders.
His thumb pauses at the corner of my mouth. All the air evaporates around us. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. This touch is more intimate. My eyes are locked on his and my mind is focused on his thumb on my lips. I can’t blink. I can’t move. I should react, but I have no idea what to do.
“Breathe Madison,” his deep voice murmurs.
I gulp in air like a fish out of water, still frozen in place. He gently brushes the pad of his thumb over my lower lip from one corner to the other. A gasp escapes. It’s the clue he waited for. His lips collide with mine. In his kiss, I feel his need, his hunger. His plump lower lip is heavy and hot on mine.
When he pulls away, I’m left needing more, wanting more, desiring more. My eyes lock on his. His pupils dilate while watching my tongue slowly moisten my lip from one side to the other. Breath catches in my throat. His eyes on mine, he slowly brings his mouth to mine, pausing at the last moment to ensure my consent. I lean towards him.
His firm lips press to mine. His familiar scent surrounds me. My hands move from his upper arms into his hair. I clutch at his curly strands while removing his cap. His hot tongue lingers upon my lower lip, seeking entrance. My lips part, allowing the joining of our mouths. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever imagined.
It’s as if my body knows what to do although I have no experience in a situation like this. My hormones control my brain—pleasure is all I care about. As Hamilton’s hand on the back of my neck secures my mouth to his, my hands abandon his hair, feather down his neck, and begin their descent over his hard chest. I fist my hands in his T-shirt at his abdomen. My need to hold on to him is fierce.
He pulls his mouth from mine. I groan its loss. Tenderly, he licks and nips along my jaw, past my ear, to my neck. I tilt my head away, opening up to him. Moans escape as I revel in the pleasure he bestows upon me.
Hamilton’s hands slowly raise the hem of my shirt. His fingers graze over my skin ever so lightly. My already pebbled nipples turn rock hard with his touch. Desire overwhelms me. My body wiggles and writhes with need. I feel a strong need to squeeze my thighs together.
His thumbs caress the skin just below my breasts. He traces the line where my bra and ribs meet. Unable to wait any longer, I tug my shirt over my head in one swift movement. Hamilton traps my wrists above my head, his strong hands holding me in place. My breasts arch into his hard chest as I bite my lower lip.
“Impatient much?” he smirks. “I need you to trust me. We are in no rush tonight.”
I nod because I trust him wholeheartedly. My trust in him is the reason I asked this favor of him. Only I didn’t know I’d react to his every touch and kiss. I’d thought it would be awkward and quick. I’ve turned to putty in his hands, and I’ve wilted to a puddle of need. My body aches for him. After tonight, I am sure I will be forever ruined.
Hamilton peppers kisses on my brow, my nose, my cheeks, and down my neck to my breastbone. His fingers deftly unhook my bra. As I slip it off my arms, he pinches, before his hot tongue laves each breast gently to soothe. He suckles one nipple as his hands clutch my ribs then slide to my waist. I’m equal parts nervous and anxious for our union. I tug his T-shirt up, but he denies my attempt.
“Patience,” he croons. “Trust me to take care of you.”
I replace my hands upon his chest. I attempt to restrain myself and allow him to lead. With hands on my shoulders, he playfully pushes me backwards. While I lie bare from my waist up, Hamilton’s eyes slowly appraise me. I desperately try not to cover myself. As he continues to stare, my feverish skin begs for his contact.
I slowly extend one arm toward his, hoping to encourage his hands upon me once more. He playfully swats my hand away then rewards me by raising two hands behind his head to tug his shirt off in that way guys like to do. I want to see everything. I internally curse the leaves of my favorite tree for blocking so much moonlight. In this lighting with his back to the moon, each contour of his muscles creates a dark shadow. My fingers flex, wanting to explore. I feel a strong need to rub my thighs together as dampness pooling there contrasts the heat at my center. Hamilton’s powerful thighs have mine pinned between his knees, planted on either side of my hips.
He bends at the waist. His warm breath caresses my abdomen before he places kisses at my navel then from hip to hip. As amazing as the sensations are, they fail to distract me from his fingers unbuttoning then unzipping my shorts. I tamp down my panic as the reality of our actions sets in. I want this, I remind myself as I steady my racing thoughts.
While pulling my shorts down my thighs, he peppers kisses along my panties at my hips. When I whimper, I feel a smile on his hot lips, then his wet tongue darts out and slips beneath the fabric.
A tsunami of heat flows to my core, my breath hitches, and Hamilton chuckles, proud of himself.
“You are very responsive.”
Crap! What does that mean? Am I doing this wrong?
Knowing me better than anyone else, Hamilton assures me it’s a good thing when he tosses my shorts into the grass. He positions his long body beside mine. His fingertips trace my panties at my thigh as his lips cover mine.
He prevents my turning into him. Pulling his lips from mine, he moves into the plank position over me. On his elbows, he looks into my eyes. My cheeks heat as his gaze seems to penetrate my soul. I lie nearly naked below him, my every cell acutely aware of his touch. A slow smile slides upon my face as I feel his erection through his jeans pressed into my thigh.
“You like that?” I can’t play naïve when he grinds his pelvis even closer.
I bite my lower lip. His pupils swell, and suddenly, the warm night air feels electric. In a moment of boldness, I lift my hips, causing friction at the apex of my thighs. My back arches and eyes close as Hamilton sucks, nips, and licks down my breast bone and abdomen and blows hot breath on my panties. His thumbs hook at my hips then achingly slowly slip the silk down my thighs before tossing them over his shoulder. I open my eyes in anticipation. A sly grin graces his face. His eyes move to the area I need him the most.
His hand rests upon my mound then presses up slightly. His eyes lock on mine. He purses his lips, blowing warm air on my sex. Unable to control my reaction, I writhe beneath him. Eyes still looking at mine he darts his tongue out. I mewl, as he licks slowly. My wetness burns hotter still.
I’m unable to keep my eyes open, my lips part, and my breath quickens. My body hums, no longer in my control. I feel every beat of my racing heart pumping through every vein. Every muscle flexes, and my abdomen tightens.
Hamilton alternates between licking then gently sucking. My core coils tighter and tighter. He introduces one long finger then a second. When he curls his fingers against my inner wall while he continues to suckle, I shatter into a million glorious pieces. I pulse from head to toe. Hamilton slows his movements as I ride my very first orgasm.
“Breathe,” his gruff voice urges.
I pant as I slowly come back down. I lazily stretch my arms above my head. Never has a stretch felt so good. Gaining control of my senses once again, I feel Hamilton’s low chuckle against my arm.
I raise one eyebrow in question, causing his chuckles to continue.
“Very, very responsive.”
I hide my face in his chest, suddenly embarrassed. He kisses the top of my head before pulling me back. With his dark eyes on mine, he smiles. “How was that?”
As if he doesn’t know. He’s very aware he pushed my every button. He played me like I was a rookie at the plate and he deftly painted the corners with his curveballs before striking me out looking at his fastball. The man has skills.
“You are very aware of just how good that was.” I’m not very well versed on sex. I hope my orgasm proved my enjoyment.
With a sexy smirk upon his lips, he informs me he loves how I react to him. He takes pride in his success.
Although my orgasm was more than I ever dreamed it would be, my body craves even more from him. I trace my fingers down his abdomen to his jeans. I nervously fumble a bit with the button. I breathe a sigh as I slowly lower his zipper. My breath hitches when I find no undergarments hinder my trek toward him. Commando. Wow. I’ve seen boxers in his bedroom a couple of times but have no complaint in their absence at this moment.
My enjoyment of young adult, new adult, and romance books did not prepare me for holding him in my hand. Although the size and weight of it are surprising, I marvel at the contrast of the silky skin covering hard steel. It’s both delicate and strong, inviting and scary.
His shallow breaths stall when I begin exploring every inch of him. I tighten my grip and pump a few times. Hamilton’s guttural groan encourages my novice attempts to pleasure him.
Placing his hand on mine, he begs me to stop, claiming he won’t last long if I continue. I pull my hand back while he removes his boots, socks, and jeans. I glide my hand up his muscular back.
I release a nervous sigh as he returns to my side. As much as I want this favor from him, I worry it might harm our friendship, and I need him too much to lose him. But, I need this favor before I attack life on my own.
Sensing his hesitation, I place my hands on his head and pull his lips to mine. Our kiss begins soft but immediately turns urgent. My fingers curl in his hair, desperate to hold him to me.
The calluses on his pitching hand rub over my flesh. Years of his fingers rubbing against the seams of a baseball, gift me with a delicious friction. Relaxing my grip on him, he suckles my nipple. The harsh friction followed by his warm soft tongue are sweet torture. When he blows warm air across each, I can take no more.
“Please,” I beg.
He places his forehead to mine, his eyes searching me for what I don’t know. In his eyes, I see the war within him. I lift my pelvis to meet his, grinding slightly to signal I am still ready.
His hand parts my thighs before a finger plunges inside. Yes, like a brazen hussy, I meet each thrust, grinding into his palm. A second long, strong finger enters then a third.
Hamilton withdraws his fingers but continues circling my bud. Once again, our foreheads meet.
“I think you are ready.”
“Very ready.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whisper-growls while we stare.
“You won’t hurt me. Please,” I beg.
Rising up on one forearm, he sheaths himself in a condom that seems to appear out of nowhere, then nudges my slick entrance. He slowly presses himself inside.
“Relax and breathe,” he whispers into my ear.
When I comply, he plunges in another inch. I revel in the full sensation as I stretch to accommodate him inch by inch. He pauses—his arm muscles straining. For a long moment, he kisses me then places one last kiss on the corner of my lips.
“When I move again, it’s gonna hurt a bit.” His worried eyes seek my understanding.
I smile up at him then nod. With a bit more force, he pushes through the resistance within. I tense at the pinch and slight burn. Prompting me to breathe again, he slowly pulls back before pressing back into me.
With each stroke, my body relaxes more and more. Moving on their own, my legs wrap around his waist. My heels dig into his glutes as his thrusts are deeper in this position. I alternate kisses with licks on his neck and collarbone. I feel the tightness forming again, low in my belly. Hamilton pulls his torso from mine. Sitting on his haunches, he lifts my calves over his shoulders while maintaining his rhythm.
In the pale moonlight, I take in his hooded eyes and slightly parted lips. He slows his hips. Not wanting my approaching orgasm to wane, I shyly slide my hand between us. I slowly circle my fingers against my clit in unison with his thrusts.
When my inner muscles clinch, signaling my rapidly approaching release, Hamilton’s eyes open wide. My impending orgasm gives him the green light to stop fighting his own release.
His hands tighten on my hips as he pistons at a punishing pace. I don’t just reach the edge of a cliff but plummet down from it. My orgasm ripples through me, clenching his cock, causing his own release. He pulses within me then collapses. His heated skin on mine, my arms wrap around him. I smile into his neck while we catch our breath and fall back down to Earth. His warmth encompasses me. I revel in the knowledge that “little ol’ me” could cause this reaction in such a strong guy. I expected the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am experience while Hamilton helped me lose my virginity. I wasn’t prepared to experience my first orgasm, let alone my second. I didn’t plan to feel so aroused by his touch or so at home in his embrace.
“Please don’t cry.” Hamilton’s words make me aware of the warm streams of tears on each cheek. I frantically wipe them.
“I’m not sure why I’m crying,” I chuckle in an attempt to make light of the tears. “I haven’t cried since…”
“Since your dad’s funeral.” Hamilton finishes my sentence before wiping away a stray tear. He kisses the tip of my nose.
“I think they are happy tears.”
Hamilton searches my face to access my honesty. “Did I hurt you?”
I pinch the tender flesh beneath his upper right arm.
Hamilton wails before asking, “Why the hell did you do that?”
“It felt like that. A pinch. Then,” I pause to lick and kiss his earlobe and neck. “Then the pain was replaced by overwhelming desire and a second orgasm.”
“You never cease to amaze me with your words and actions. You’d think after five years I would be ready for it all.”
His words are music to my ears. He likes my honesty, my descriptions, and the way I live life. Warmth swells within me. I snuggle closer to Hamilton’s chest with my back as he holds me in his arms. Do I feel different as a woman? Not really. It is silly of me to think I’d feel changed by losing my V-card. I won’t dress or walk differently tomorrow. It’s similar to my eighteenth birthday. Suddenly I was legally an adult but didn’t feel any different. I still went to high school each day and worried about college in the fall, just as I won’t change after tonight.
I’m so close to sleep. Lying wrapped in Hamilton’s arms, snug to his chest, listening and feeling his steady breaths, this is bliss. Just as I begin to drift off, Hamilton’s whisper tugs me back.
“It was better than I fantasized.” Hamilton’s sleepy masculine voice murmurs.
Wait what? He thought of this? Of me? When? “Better than I fantasized”. Did my best friend Hamilton fantasize about sex with me? Did he think about this before I asked a favor of him tonight? Fuck a duck! How do we go back to a friendship now? This wasn’t a quickie to lose my virginity. I felt things for Hamilton. They were the type of feelings best friends don’t have. I craved him in a primal way. Hamilton tightens his arms around me as he shifts positions. I try to lie still. I’m a bit uncomfortable with my confused thoughts.
Hamilton’s breathing is even as his limbs are heavy around me. After a few moments, I realize he’s asleep. Asleep? Was he talking in his sleep? His confession about his fantasies for me remain an even bigger mystery.
“I’m sorry,” Hamilton whispers, stirring from sleep prior to kissing my shoulder. “I guess you wore me out.” I turn in his arms. He smiles, pulling me to his chest.
“And I’m sorry I fucked up our plans.” Hamilton states. “But really it is your fault. You pushed me to enter the draft this year instead of three to four years from now when I planned to. I honestly didn’t believe I would be drafted. I hoped but never dreamed.”
Hamilton always underestimates his true worth. He knows he is talented. He knows he can play college baseball. His dream of playing Major League Baseball is one he only shared with his parents and me. I encouraged him to enter the draft. It is my fault he will leave me tomorrow. His gift needs to be shared—I pushed him to enter, knowing others would recognize it, too.
Hamilton’s fingers trace my smug smile. “You’re proud of yourself, aren’t you?” His thumb caresses my cheekbone. “You were relentless about the draft. I gave in just to shut you up. And now, I’m playing minor league baseball for the Chicago Cubs.” He rolls to his back.
I place my hand upon his arm. “God blessed you with a rare gift in your left arm. He gave you the strength and love for the game to endure your greatness.” I feel his muscles tighten as he makes a fist. “You’ve entertained Athens long enough. Soon you will entertain baseball fans everywhere.”
Hamilton rolls to face me. He pulls me to his chest in a tight embrace. “You’ve always been my biggest fan.”
“I still will be. I plan to follow you online, drive to Des Moines for a game or two, and I will even call to ride your ass if you slack off.”
Hamilton places a chaste kiss on my forehead. Then his lips linger but a hair’s breadth away from mine. I lift my eyes to meet his while my tongue peeks out to wet my lower lip. I blink. He lowers his head.
I draw in a sharp breath as Hamilton’s stubbled jaw grates against my nipple. The roughness brings the perfect amount of friction to contrast his soft, warm tongue. He alternates chin whiskers and mouth on each of my breasts. It’s the perfect torment to tighten the coil in my core yet again. Hamilton’s ministrations wind me tighter and tighter. I feel I will explode any minute. One minute he’s touching me, then next he’s gone.
He struggles to find his discarded jeans, looking for a condom. I giggle as he crawls on all fours around me desperately. Looking toward me, stone-faced, with a foil packet in hand, I cover my mouth to stifle my giggles. Visible in the pale moonlight, I gawk, open-mouthed, at the magnificent male specimen as he slowly slides the condom on. The sight of his hands holding his shaft stirs everything within me. My fingers itch to touch him.
“Ham,” I moan in a drawn-out whisper. “Please.” My body writhes as my need becomes too much for me to bear. “I need you, now.” The heat pooling in my belly and the wetness coating my thighs needs his attention.
Hamilton quickly lies beside me. I roll towards him and squeal when he rolls me atop him. I plant my hands over each of his shoulders and press myself over him. His huge hands squeeze each of my butt cheeks. In this position, we align perfectly. His erection extends under my abdomen. I fight the urge to grind myself this way and that upon his impressive length.
Not quite sure how to proceed in our current position, I tilt my head to the side. Hamilton moves to a sitting position. With hands on my hips, he lifts me then one hand positions himself at my entrance. Oh, now I see how this will work. Ever up for a challenge, I quickly slide myself upon him.
“Easy!” He warns too late.
“Ahh!”
“It’s deeper in this position.” Hamilton caresses my ribcage. My skin prickles beneath his touch. He licks his lips as he cups my breasts.
Enjoying the sensations, I forget about Hamilton’s cock buried deep within me until he nudges his pelvis upwards. Oh yeah, I should probably move. As I raise and lower myself, I quickly realize this is my favorite sexual position. I know I’ve only experienced two positions, but this one is so g-o-o-d.
On my next downward thrust, Hamilton’s hands at my hips grind me against him. Sparks shoot through my core. Enjoying it immensely, I now rise up, glide down, and swivel my hips before repeating. My head falls back—my long hair against my heated back adds yet another sensation to the mix. I lift my hands from his chest to mine.
Hamilton’s fingertips softly pinch and pull then rub my clit, and I’m a goner. I grind myself against his fingers mere moments before I collapse on his chest riding out my orgasm. As every muscle clenches, my body pulses, and lightning flashes behind my eyelids, Hamilton’s hands continue to move my hips, seeking his release while extending mine. Finally, his pulsing orgasm ceases his movements, and my long orgasm begins to wane.
His hands, sluggish from the exertion, rub up and down my back. I am bouncing up and down. Wait! Is he laughing?
“What’s so funny?”
He instructs me to listen. Listen? What? He’s laughing. Oh… In the distance, I hear the howls of coyotes. They sound like a litter of little ones calling for their mother. An owl above us hoots and a dog barks in the distance.
“What has them all worked up?”
Hamilton’s laughter deepens. With great difficulty, I rise to glare at him.
Through his laughter he states. “You’re not exactly quiet.” He taps a finger on the tip of my nose.
“Me?” My mind replays our most recent sex session. My eyes grow wide as I realize I growled. I cried out. I even chanted, “yes, yes, yes”. Embarrassment floods my cheeks and neck. I fan myself in an attempt to counter the heat. I’m in so much trouble. This is way more than the favor I asked of him.
Tugging on a strand of my hair, Hamilton assures me. “I found it very hot. It’s very late so no one heard you but the animals.”
I swat him playfully while ordering him. “Don’t tease me.”
Hamilton squeezes me tightly while releasing a deep sigh.
“As much as I hate for this to end, it is late, and we should head home.” Hamilton continues to hug me.
We use our cell phone lights to gather our clothes. Once dressed, I hand Hamilton his hat.
“Uh, thanks.” Hamilton’s voice hesitates.
“Um, yeah.” Words clog my throat while I dart my eyes over our surroundings. This is the awkwardness I expected. I stand hands on my hips not sure how to stand or what to say. I’m not sure what my body language expresses to him at this moment. I am so out of my element here.
Fortunately, Hamilton ends my discomfort. He says goodnight, I nod, and we walk in opposite directions. Tears fill my eyes as I realize this is probably the last time Hamilton and I will share our favorite place. Tomorrow, our lives venture down opposite forks in the road.