#and im to bed

Aftercare

“How are you doing?”

She was trembling, naked, and sore. Parts of her were throbbing, and the rest just ached. She was exhausted. She was done, in other words. Done with him, done with being fucked, tortured, teased, brought to climax over and over again. She’d finally had her fill. Done for now, then. 

It had become routine, that question. Murmured in her ear as he held her, to make sure that there was nothing amiss, to give her opportunity to ask for a glass of water, or nod that yes, a bath would be heavenly right now. But today the words didn’t come, just this drunk smile that stumbled across her face.

The silence drew out like a gunslinger. He stiffened slightly, and pulled back, cupping her face with both his hands. 

“How are you doing?” A little more pointed this time, a little less soft. Concern lined his voice, and it was that which made her open her eyes, look into his. She just smiled some more.

“I’m… good.” First word inhale, second exhale. Pause in between. She turned her head, pressed it to his shoulder, and closed her eyes again. He softened and she could feel the smile in the way his arms wrapped around her, and how his hips pressed against hers, knocking like icebergs.

There was something about the time after that she couldn’t help but covet with an almost dangerous pleasure. Her mind raced, constantly driven from one thought to the next, without a single opportunity for respite or distraction. Silences terrified her, a giant open vacuum that needed to be filled with something, anything, and so she babbled more oft than not, which only made things worse. Even during sex, when he was doing all those wonderful things, her mind didn’t let up. It had to dwell on every sensation, lose itself in each sting.

But here, on the other side, things somehow weren’t quite so pressing. She was offered a chance to recuperate, lose herself properly, dwell in the silence. How was she doing?

Pretty well, thank you very much.