Meet me in the Middle

Chapter 11

I wake up from the sun dancing on my pillow. The curtains I didn't properly close last night, letting the light of the early morning into my new room. I snuggle my face back into the comforter, silently begging the morning to give me five more minutes of pure, blissful, uninterrupted sleep in the cloud Amelia dubbed my bed upon our arrival at her place.

I take a minute to appreciate how well I've been sleeping since I moved out of the hotel. There was no more crying, heartbreak or dreams about the life I left behind two nights ago. For the first time in months, I feel warm and safe.

I slip my hand over my chest and abdomen and right into my sleep shorts, admiring the kindled fire my hands provoke. I moan when I feel the first traces of my arousal on my fingers as I slip them through my folds. Now, this is a feeling I haven't allowed myself to feel in weeks.

I love sex. It is quite literally my specialty. I published papers on orgasms, done studies to use pleasure as pain relief, and my sexual fluidity has always been my greatest strength. Sex was to me, what running was to my wife. It was my escape and solace, all tied up into a beautiful bow of heated passion.

I try pleasuring myself with an empty mind, simply focusing on the act itself, but it is not enough to satisfy me. I think back to the woman who flirted with me at the bar a couple of nights ago. I focus on her piercing blue eyes, chiseled cheekbone and, the laugh wrinkles around her left eye as she gave me a half smile. My clit springs to life when I rub over it again as I picture her biting her lip.

I imagine her raspy voice telling me how gorgeous she found me, how that voice would've been an octave lower had I taken her home and had my way with her. My fingers are rubbing harder at the little bundle of nerves at my center as I picture the sway of her hips, after I allowed my guilt to get the better of me and watched her walk away. What would have happened if I wasn't married.

Would the beautiful woman be in my bed right now? Would I have been grabbing into that luscious ass while she rode my face, seeking her orgasm like I'm straining towards my own right now? I enter a finger into my opening, gathering the small drops of pleasure to lubricate the part that needs it the most. It isn't half as intense as I'm used to, but it has been long enough that any orgasm will do, so I focus on the woman in the bar again to help me get there.

"You are mine, love!" My eyes fly open and my sex gushes when Maya's voice enters my fantasy uninvited. My middle finger unknowingly slips into my pussy, desperately seeking the pleasure it knows my wife's possessiveness can ignite. 

The buttocks I've been fantasizing about morphs into the muscular glutes outlined by a navy firefighter uniform and while my gaze ascends, I take in how incredibly hot my wife looks. When I meet her burning aquamarine orbs, my orgasm slams into me before I can stop myself from chasing the pleasure brought on by the thought of the woman who broke my heart. 

I pull the pillow out from under by head and smother myself with it for a second. Unshed tears are burning my eyes, and my sex yearns when I remove my hand from it, giving a twitch at the loss of physical and emotional contact. "Mannaggia la miseria!" When will the misery end? How could I just do that?

"Carina! We need to leave soon! Wake up sleepy head." Amelia quietly enters my new room with Scout on her hip, who is eating a banana. She tilts her head to the side when she sees the state I'm in this morning and sighs loudly before putting her son down and climbing onto bed with me.

She takes the pillow from my face and props herself up on it, looking at me with sympathy. She's already dressed and ready to leave for work "I know you're going through a lot, but I will not allow you to wallow in self-pity in my house. There are patients depending on you at the hospital, and you can't still be in bed when we are supposed to leave in fifteen minutes."