She smelled like: lemon cake or a lemon drop? I couldn’t decide. But it was delicious trying to while she licked my collarbone. My whole body tingled.
Then her hand slid across my breasts. I opened my eyes to watch them be teased—her fingernails were dirty. My skin wriggled. I struggled to keep smiling while she flirted. She craved my reaction but I retreated and closed my eyes, desperate to return to three minutes ago.
“You’re so beautiful.” Her voice had the sexiest hint of gravel and it pulled me back in. Then her hand left my chest, my body relaxed and the lust kicked up to overdrive.
She straddled me and we both grinned as our nipples poked at each other, competing for attention, and I let my tongue glide over her lips. I wanted to taste that lemon—a fleck of her dandruff fell into my left eye.
She moaned.
I closed my eyes but couldn’t escape the vision of my bed blanketed in a blizzard of her dead skin flakes.
What’s wrong with me!? She’s beautiful and so into me!
Her hand eased between my legs. My breath fluttered and I recoiled. Afraid she’d notice, I quickly selected a fake reaction from my vault of “always works”. The winner? A chest-heave with a deep moan. She bought it.
My stomach churned. How many filthy microbes are laying eggs inside me? I gripped her arm tighter to hasten the charade and added some feathery panting. Was it too much?
Vibrating her fingers, she whispered, “It’s all for you.” Her chest caught my rhythm and I knew I could sell the finish until I clocked her Rolling Stones tee on the floor. It had a pizza stain at the bottom.
“Yes!” I yelled, throwing my head back and pulling her hand out. My faux escape from the overwhelming pleasure of her talents made her beam. She licked her fingers with pride. I threw her some convincing post-coital demureness and maneuvered us off the bed before grabbing my phone to initiate a fake text crisis.
Almost out the door, she turned and asked wantonly, “See you soon?”
The night’s great moments replayed but were overwhelmed by the dirt rings under her nails. I imagined myself alone forever when I answered believably, “For sure.”