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The Aftermath

Sex with him's so amazing
Like in my memories. No, even better.

I woke up in his bed, in his arms...sore...with a stupid smile on my face.

I didn't want to wake him up so I didn't move; just laid there naked, reminiscing about the way (should I say «ways»?) he had treated my body. Gentle but so ruff at the same time.

Well, that's what you asked for, remember? And I quote: «I don't want it nice and slow».

Huuuumm and he was prompt to grant my wishes. Closing my eyes, I replayed the whole scene in my head: his hands all over my body, his hot kisses and powerful thrusts...

I must have moaned out loud because I felt him move so I rolled on my side to watch him wake up. He was so handsome with his impossibly long lashes and his unshaved beard.
He opened his eyes, looked at me and smiled. Even in the vapors of sleep, his eyes still clouded, his hair tousled, he had the power to melt my heart.

We laid there, gazing in each other's eyes, not talking, not even breathing for fear of breaking the spell. And it felt good; it felt safe and familiar, as if 4 years hadn't passed since the last time we shared the same bed. He took my hand and started kissing my finger tips, pulling me close to him. Reality kicked in when his phone rang.

-If you wish, I can ignore it.
Too late, the spell was broken.
-Answer it, I'll get dressed.

He looked disappointed, hesitant but finally picked up his phone. I gathered my clothes (they were all over the floor) and went to the bathroom to freshen up. When I got out, he had left the bedroom. I followed the sound of his voice and found him in the kitchen, drinking water...naked.

Some things don't change...

And now what?

And now, well... My heart (and some other parts of me) wants me to pick up where we left off. But my brains (the smartest of the lot) says it's useless. Indeed, he is only here for a few weeks and then he leaves, goes back to his life of travels around the world.

If I decide to follow my heart, we will go out, attend parties, have fun and lots of sex (yeah, we do that); and when it's time to go, he will leave me brokenhearted...again.

Decisions, decisions...





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Yasmine Yende Writer

Yasmine Yende

Hi, I'm a writer living in Brussels. This blog is to make you discover my universe with the novels, stories and poems I write.

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