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Part 12
A couple of weeks have passed since Ben and Dawn returned from their honeymoon. During that time, they worked on restoring their intimacy, slowly rebuilding their physical touch and displays of affection from scratch. Starting with tentatively holding hands, going out on a date, a tender, electric kiss – their first since Amir – as they looked at the sunset… It all led them here, snuggling against each other and kissing in their shared bed. Ben’s heart hammered against his ribs, while Dawn finally felt at peace – back where they should be, where she belonged. This was it. They were finally ready for their version of ‘sex’.
Dawn was looking into his eyes as they lay next to each other, facing each other, holding each other. Her lips found his, not with the frantic hunger of their youth, but with the tenderness of years shared. His hands, trembling slightly, came up to cradle her breast, gently, as he kissed her back. She sighed into his mouth, a wave of relief and contentment washing though her, her entire body aching with love and longing for her husband.
With deliberate slowness, Ben’s fingers began to push up Dawn’s shirt until it was over her chest, at which point she broke off their kissing and pull the shirt completely off. Taking advantage of the lull, Ben swiftly took his own shirt off. Soon, every article of clothing fell to the floor. His jeans, her sweatpants, their socks, until almost nothing was left. They stood for a moment in front of each other, looking at each other while holding hands, taking in the view they both missed for so long.
Dawn examined his new tan, his changed muscles, both testaments to the grueling treks of their honeymoon. She noticed with pleasure how he was hard for her, how his body was tense with raw need.
Ben, on his end, took her entire body in. He wanted to sear the image into his mind, to remember every detail so he could relive it whenever he was alone. She was perfect, standing next to the bed. Her breasts – oh, how he missed seeing her breasts – were just there in front of him. Her toned body called to him. Her stomach, he wanted to get on his knees and kiss it. She was completely bare. Almost completely bare. She kept her panties on – a simple pair of white cotton panties with a strawberry print – serving as their chaperone for the evening.
She took his hand and pulled him back toward the bed. She lay on her back and guided him on top of her, her body warm and welcoming. As the weight of him suddenly pressed over her, she let out a high, happy squeak. He felt her breasts against his chest, the sensation so soft it soothed him immediately. He’s been waiting for this feeling for months, and now that it was finally here – it was like a weight lifted of his heart.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in. “I love you,” he murmured into her skin, his voice muffled. “I love you too,” she whispered back, her hands stroking slow, calming circles on his back. “I missed this so much.”
His erection nestled against the damp cloth of her panties. The friction was a sweet torture. He shifted his hips, and the shaft of his cock rubbed directly over her pubic bone, separated only by that thin, frustratingly effective, piece of cotton. A low groan escaped him.
She smiled and wrapped her legs around him, opening herself to him, giving his erection better access and pressing him against her as he continued to rock his hips.
They lay like that for what felt like an eternity, simply kissing while rocking against each other. Long, slow, loving kisses, interleaved with shorter, playful kisses. They talked about nothing. What their friends were up to since the wedding, the new coffee shop that had opened downtown, which movie they should watch this weekend. It was all so profoundly mundane, yet each and every word they spoke was layered with the electric current running between their connected bodies.
His hips moved in a constant rhythm, his length sliding from base to tip against the cotton on her crotch. He imagined how others, with the same motion, were actually sliding in and out of her. The thought ignited the fire inside of him, taking him out of the lazy intimacy they were in. He pressed down, a little harder this time, and the tip of him caught against her opening. He pushed, her panties the only thing keeping him from sinking into her. Dawn froze, a sharp intake of breath hissing through her teeth, as her legs pulled him harder, pressed him harder against her.
Dawn moved her head to look deep into his eyes. “I want you so much,” she gasped. She arched her back just a fraction, pressing herself even more against him. “It reminds me of Javier. You remember him, right? From the first night of our honeymoon? He was on top of me, like you are now. And he teased me, made me wait for it. I wanted him inside me so much. This feels very similar.”
The name was a splash of gasoline on the fire burning inside of him. Ben jerked, his body pushing even harder against her panties. The image the mahogany-skinned man pushing against her like Ben was doing now, flashed in his mind. He kissed her hungrily as he pushed with everything he had against her.
Seeing his reaction, Dawn continued to tease him. “The difference is, he actually got to do it,” she taunted, and pulled him harder with her legs. She could feel the panties stretch, the very tip of his cock almost inside her. Then she laughed lightly and softened, relaxing her body and smiling at him. She cupped his cheek and gave him a gentle kiss, as he continued pushing rhythmically against her. “But this is better,” she said, her tone shifting back to that loving warmth. “I love you so much.” She kissed him again, pulling him back from his hormone-fueled frenzy. She didn’t need to say anything else. He already knew. He felt it too, and he loved what they had. He loved laying with her like this.
Slowly, he relaxed, and they settled back into their slow, rhythmic, grinding embrace. The torment was there, a constant presence that he couldn’t, and didn’t want to, escape. But it was woven into something larger. The torment was like a spice, elevating the entire dish of their shared love.
“You feel so good,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. She rocked against him, a slow, deliberate undulation that had him seeing stars, as she whispered back. “It’s so much more… intimate than just sex, don’t you think?”
He could only nod, his voice stolen by the sensation of her heat seeping through the cotton, branding him.
Feeling he was longing for some more teasing, she looked him in the eyes again. “Leo never understood this,” she mused, as if recalling a distant memory. “He just wanted to take. When he saw me, he’d just immediately go in. He didn’t understand the beauty of waiting. Of longing for something. Of the anticipation. The denial.”
Another name. Another ghost in their bed. Ben felt himself get harder. Her words weren’t meant to wound. They were exactly what he wanted, what he needed. He was the only one strong enough to give her this. And, he knew, she was the only one who understood his needs so completely.
He held her tighter, his arms locking around her shoulders like he was trying to fuse their bodies together. They weren’t moving toward climax; they were suspended in a perfect, agonizing, yet Blissful moment of almost-ness. The air was hot with the things that were happening, but even more so with the things that weren’t.
She nuzzled his neck, her lips brushing against his pulse. “I love you, Ben,” she breathed, her voice so full of a conviction that it shook him to his core. “This right here. This is what life is all about.”
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