This isn't weird.

Understood

Post-Coital Bliss Millie was perhaps his favorite Millie yet. She was like a happy little kitten purring in his lap, playful and doe-eyed and greedy for affection. Every caress pleased her more than the last; he could feel her delight, rippling through her skin like static electricity everywhere he touched her. She allowed him to kiss her endlessly, all over her face, her neck, her ears and her shoulders, on her palms and her knuckles and the very tips of her skinny little fingers, and again and again on her beautiful, beautiful mouth, the same beautiful mouth that had tempted and tormented him since his first moment alone with her.

For a while, neither said a word. Ben, for his part, didn't trust himself to speak without saying too much. His physical affection may have been well received, but he suspected that verbalizing it would be a step outside of whatever nebulous boundaries were holding this moment together. It was safer to shower her with love silently than to risk accidentally blurting out the word itself, and the kisses articulated his feelings better than anything he could think to say out loud, anyway.

When he finally did speak, there was a touch of wry nervousness in his tone as he asked, "So... I did okay?" He knew the answer, but still wanted to hear her say it.

"Okay?" Millie repeated with an incredulous laugh. There was a heady lilt to her voice that reminded him very much of Drunk Millie. "Ben. Ben. That was the most intense orgasm I've ever had. That was... it was amazing."

Ben looked at her with the widest, proudest grin she had ever seen on a man. "I told you I was going to make you feel good, didn't I?"

"Oh my god, look at your stupid victory face. You're so proud of yourself," she said with another giggle.

"I don't know what you're talking about. This is just my normal face," he insisted.

"Sure, sure. Keep your big, dumb smile. You earned it." She rolled onto her back, and staring at the ceiling, she exhaled a long sigh. "I have needed that so badly for so long."

"You think you needed that?" Ben asked, settling in next to her and draping an arm lazily over her bare waist. "You cannot even begin to imagine what torture it has been to fight off the urge to fucking ravish you for all this time."

"Oh, I definitely can," she replied. "Trust me. If we're having a competition for who's been hornier for longer, I'm going to win every time."

"No fucking way," he scoffed.

"It's true!"

"Prove it."

"Hmm... You know, come to think of it, I do have proof. But not here."

"What is it?"

Millie hesitated, her expression fluctuating between embarrassed and sly. "You remember that first time you went running with Tess, and came back to my place after?"

"Uh-huh."

"And remember how you were just soaked with sweat, so I brought you a clean shirt and said I'd wash the one you were wearing?"

"Uh-huh—wait, I never did get that shirt back."

"No, you did not. It's still in my closet, in a tightly sealed plastic bag."

"What? Why?"

"Because it smells like your disgusting sweaty man pheromones I need it to masturbate."

Ben sat up straight and looked at her with wide eyes. "No fucking way," he said again.

"It's true! And that's exactly what I did when I got back from dropping you off that morning. The way you smelled that day had me losing my mind."