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He did show his concern for her, repeatedly asking her how she was feeling, but she just kept saying she was fine, not even noticing how many time he asked her. Alexis took the coffee when it was ready and sipped it slowly. John was so wired he only drank his to give his hands something to do. Despite finishing his cup long before Alexis did, John decided not to talk to her while she sipped her cupped. He wasnt sure what to say and didnt want to keep asking her how she was. He poured himself another cup, and finished even that one before she finished her first. Finally he could take it no more, so he took her cup out of her hands and put it on the table. He took her by the hands and led her upstairs to his bedroom. Her senses went on high alert when she realized where he was leading her, but she realized that something was finally going to happen. If they were just going to make out, they would just stay on the couch, maybe start by watching TV and moving on. But John was trouncing. I had not previously ever conceived so vividly the stripping, peeling away, tearing off, and strewing of clothes as I listened to the rustling sounds of fabric, crash of belt buckle, parting of the teeth down the zipper, the fall of shoes, and the clink of your cufflinks. I was shaking all over and I hugged myself to steady the tremors that ripped through my body and heart. My arms pressed against my nipples, which beaded into hard, long eraser heads and tingled with lust. My legs were bent and pressed together, only to emit from between, the flow of my wetness. Against the backdrop of crumpling onto a bed, rippling and rustling of crisp bed linens, groaning of mattress springs, I heard the shuffling of bodies, gasping breaths, and the wet sound of lips separating. A woman was moaning your name, over and over again. I was also chanting your name in whispers as I slid back down on our bed and my hands slid down my body. My fingers caressed myself as I listened to your wet lappings and.
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