Chapter 48: The Marker

He carried me inside. I was naked and wet, and my legs were not interested in being legs. He took me to the bathroom and dried me, careful with the towel, kissing the water at my shoulder like he was checking that I had come back into my body.

“You screamed the neighborhood down,” he said.

“Gary helped,” I said. “He was in the window. His arm was moving. I saw him while you were fucking me, and I did not look away.”

“Did he?”

“Later,” I said, because if I explained it standing up I was going to lose the nerve I had spent all day building. “I will tell you in the bedroom. I need my mouth to do one simple thing first.”

I sank to my knees and cleaned him. He was a mess, cream and squirt, his cum and mine. The taste was strong chlorine and him and me, salt and pool water, and I worked my tongue under the head and lapped up the largest thick deposits that had collected at the base of his cock, collecting everything in my mouth and then I showed him, letting him see what I had done and how much there was before swallowing and then going back to finish my task. I took him in my mouth and kept my lips tight and moved up and down his now only partially erect cock and then moved down to suck on his balls, bathing each in my mouth with my tongue, being sure I had not missed anything. He petted my hair. I swallowed again what I had gathered and kissed his thigh, and I stayed there a second longer than the job required, feeling more at peace and connected with him than words could express.

He pulled on sweatpants and left his chest bare. “I have to shut the torches and the fire down. Dry the floor. Do not disappear.”

“I will be here.”

He took the towels and went out the door. I had recovered enough to be dangerous, which is not the same thing as recovered enough to be wise.

The bag was in the bedroom. The lube was in the bag. The Sharpie I had put in that afternoon was in the bag too, because I am a woman who plans her own undoing and then calls the planning practical. I cannot believe I am about to do this, I thought, and the other thought answered before I could argue with it. I love him. I decided this. I am going to write it down so I cannot pretend I wandered into it.