Second Time Around

"Don't." Sven looked away then sank forward, hid his embarrassment between her thighs.

"Oh, fuck, yes." Mimi's fingers curled into his hair as he licked at her folds, his enthusiasm obvious.

Sven knew that vivd displays of affection and enthusiasm were what Mimi liked the most courtesy of a lover some while before him who refused to go anywhere near her pussy with his mouth, it was something Sven found bizarre. In his view, there was little more erotic than showing one's appreciation orally. The wet folds, the darkening pinkness, the individual taste and scent of a woman were somewhere near the very heart of adoration for him. Now, her familiar scent was tainted by the smell of dust and wood and the taste of his own saltiness that he lapped up until all trace of it was gone, a dedication to her. He sucked hungrily at her clit, his tongue flicking over the hardened nub of flesh until she began moving her hips against him, his cheeks were wet with her juices and he revelled in the sound of her hushed moans. Her second orgasm was harder than the first, the heat rising through her with a surprising jolt that left Sven fighting with her bucking hips. She exhaled loudly and smiled, looked up at the white walls flecked with shadow, felt Sven's breath against her thigh.

"Did you get it?" she asked.

"I did." He rose, sat next to her then bent, kissed her on the mouth.

Mimi ran her fingers through his hair, let all of the passion that had been hidden away crackle between them.

"We'd better get dressed." She said, pulling on her dress.

"No one will come down here." Sven smiled. "I swear."

"Where are you going?" Mimi watched him walk to the desk and pull open a drawer. He returned a moment later with a box of tissues.

"Here." He handed them to her, kissed her hair.

"Thank you." She took them from him, wiped herself. "I'll take a shower once I get back. Wipe your face."

"Go now." Sven said, grabbing a tissue himself. "I can finish up here. There's really very little left to do."

"No. I don't want to leave you. Here," Mimi headed towards him, rubbed his belly. as it disappeared beneath his t-shirt. "I have your ink on me." She plucked another tissue from the box, rubbed at the black smear across her right breast. In the distance there was a shriek and she looked up. "And you said no one would come down here." Mimi gave him a long look and ran her fingers through her hair, rearranged her up-do. "Five minutes sooner and that would have gone very wrong."

"Beginner's luck?" he whispered, his hand curling around her waist.

"Are you telling me you want a repeat of that?"

"Tomorrow?" he asked.

"You're incorrigible." Mimi smirked, rolled her eyes at him. "Crazy, foolish boy."

"Sorry." He said. "You're right. We should probably keep it upstairs."

The shouting was louder this time, it's owner unmistakable.

"Aunt Mimi, Aunt Mimi."

"It's so cute they've started doing that." Sven laughed. "Luca, we're back here. By Grandpa's desk."

The boy appeared, his face dappled with shadow, his hair lightened by the sun. In the months that had passed, he had grown taller and stronger than Mimi had remembered. "Mimi!"

He ran over, flung his arms around her. "Mom says we can swim in the lake. Can we go?"

"Soon." Sven said. "We have to finish here and then we can go."

"Did you have a good day at school?" Mimi ruffled the boy's hair, sat on a discarded chair.

Sven watched them together. To an outsider they could have been mother and son, their playful chatter reverberating around the barn as he told her about his day and how much he hated school, much preferring to play in the lake and walk between the vines, helping his father.

Though Sven had never considered himself paternal, there was something deeply satisfying about it; the idea that she would bear their children and love them with that same, patient caring she had for everyone. Sven knew Mimi had spent all of her teens looking out for her sister when her parents were away or when they moved, under cover of darkness between houses, whisked into the night by their mother. He knew that failing frightened her. Second time around, Sven wondered if he could try to make it right for her, try to complete a life where things could some how be better. Second time around, he thought, it might well be possible to make her as happy as she had made him. He would be sure of it and it burned in his chest like she had written in there.