"Henry!"
You are laying on your side, one leg under him, the other over his leg and wrapped around his waist. He thrusts hard and deeper at this angle, leaning forward and caressing you body as he holds you in place. You move your hips grind in time with him, constantly moaning and arching as he milks climaxes out of you. You are tired, but your body responds to his in a way you can't contemplate. His touch has stirred you awake, to life for the third time just as the sun rose.
"Come here!" He growls, raising your leg, kissing it and turning you onto your stomach. With brute strength, he raises you by your hips and you reflexively come up on your hands and knees. You cry out as he animalistically takes you from behind, starting a rhythm that almost takes your breath away. Your head falls forward, waves of pleasure going back and forth through your body as he moves in and out of you, his grip both steady and possessive. Sweat and sex dampened sheets that had dried were becoming wet again as you moved together, moaning and crying out each other's names.
As he empties into you he leans forward, rocking your bodies back and forth and then holds you tight. Exhausted, you fall forward onto your stomach and he falls with and on top of you, still embedded. You pant, catching your breath, and he runs his hands up and down your sides and kisses your shoulder. He slowly withdraws and you feel the loss, but then he turns you to him and draws you into his arms. Sleep comes naturally, both of you sated.
You awaken.
You look around, trying to answer the questions:
Who am I? That's redundant.
When is it? Saturday morning....you think.
Where are you? Henry's home.
Why are you here? To ride out the storm, but you did more than that.
What to do now?
Henry appears in the doorway with a tray. "Good afternoon."
"What?!"
"It's noon, darling," he smiles. "half past, actually." He sets down the tray, and sits in his recliner. "Come on, breakfast."
You become self conscious and shy all of a sudden. The night revealed a great deal to you both. You're both passionate and primitive, you know that now, but what does it mean...now?
"Cold?" he asks, his eyes dropping to your hand holding a sheet against your chest.
"A little," you admit, not wanting to say all the thoughts running through your head.
He breaks into a grin and pulls out one of his British hoodies. He pulls it over your head and drags you out of bed, bedsheets dragging in your wake. He picks you up and straddles you on his lap. "Come on, darling..." He offers a buttered croissant. You try to take it, but he pulls back. "Come on." He teases.
You take a bite from the croissant in his hand and chew. He is watching you, enjoying you enjoying it. "You didn't go outside, did you?"
"What? What for?"
"This is warm and seems fresh."
"Got them from the bakery yesterday morning, warmed them up today."
"Wow."
"Yeah." He takes a bite, and winks. "Wow." He hands you a cup of coffee and you sip it. This is how you like it!
"Everything okay?" he frowns.
"French roast coffee with—"
"Hazelnut, yes I know."
You blink, shaking your head in disbelief. He got that from one of your sites! You feel your body flush with awareness. "Is the storm over?"
He looks up and around, and you realize that you can hear the downpour too. "I think the worst is over." He laughs. "Kal and I raced out so he could do something between fronts."
"Great timing."
"No, Kal waited for the storm to be over and politely let me know without barking." He offers you another bite, which you take. "Even he did not want to wake you."
"Thanks, Kal," you say softly as he finishes the first croissant. "Are we going out today?"
"If we do—and that is a big if—we shouldn't go far," he shakes his head. "This isn't over, not yet. I can see the next front coming, and it looks not as bad, but bad enough."
Suddenly, you both hear a computer chime.
"Yes!"
"What?"
"Warcraft is up," he smiles. "Got some stuff to do."
"Okay—"
"Let me check," he stands up and throws you over his shoulder, making you laugh and giggle. You swat his rear. "Two can play that game, darling—" he smacks your bare ass. "and I have an advantage!"
"Brute!"
"Prim and proper I might be, pet, but I am the distant descendant of barbarians." He strokes the site he spanked gently, and then your legs. "Might want to take note of that."
"Duly noted," you say softly.
"Careful, darling, I'm trying to take care of you before the next leg over."
"What?"
He laughs and takes you to his gaming computer. He sets you down. "Well?"
"That's nice, but those—" Understanding dawns on you. "Are you building another one?"
He shrugs. "I might. I thought it would be a nice challenge to build a second, increase power and make it this monster gaming computer..." He looks at you warmly. "but I might be a little distracted."
"I know what you mean," you tell him. "I go into my writing sites and get lost between that and my stories and my outlines."
He smiles. "Yes, you did leave us hanging on a few of them."
"Gee, ya think?" you laugh. "But I have them here with me. I might finish something this weekend."
He smiles at you.
I was a high school drama musical kid—nothing like you, but I can read."
"Sounds even better," he nods, a twinkle in his eye. "And maybe I can help you edit?"
"That would be great," you say. "I edit my own stuff mostly, but I could use some fresh eyes."
You look at each other. That respect for mutual but singular interests with the offer of support makes you both feel understood.
"After breakfast—brunch, then?" He asks. "If I slip off after we eat for a little while—"
"It's alright, I can write and catch up," you nod. "not to mention tell loved ones I'm alive."
"After that?" He asks in a purr, drawing you close.
"We may have to figure that out."
"I've got ideas."
"Do you now?"
"Lots," He kisses your nose. "But, breakfast first!" He sweeps you up again, and you wrap your arms around him as he takes you back to the bedroom for breakfast. "But tomorrow I'll take you to this really nice spot I want you to see, promise."
You smile at him. "Beautiful?"
"I think so."
"Then it probably is."
"I saw your site," he said. "You have a thing for landscapes, I recall."
"Yes, I do," you admit, forgetting that this man followed you on social media, though secretly. You wonder how much he knows.
"Love water but scared of it?"
"Well, a little water is life giving, too much is the opposite, is all."
"The same can be said for a lot of things, love."
"Agreed." You blink, realizing you said that on one of your sites. You are surprised that he has read up on you-busy as he was, you had his interest. He still surprises you. Your life is brimming with them these days.