Swallowtail Ch. 11

I could be doing anything but opt simply to please her and in so doing allow her to be the instrument of my pleasure. I stroke every inch of her, unrestrained by device or imposed injunction. Her flesh erupts in goose pimples. She squirms beneath my touch. It's as though she too has been denied intimacy and has hungered for it as I have.

"Please," she whispers urgently.

I take my time.

"Are you happy?"

I'm not sure that I've heard correctly. I was about to drift off to sleep. "Pardon?"

"Are you happy? With me? With the way things are going?"

Dex has seldom asked me about my feelings.

"Yes," I say. "Surprisingly, I'm very happy. With you. With everything."

The windows are open and the sounds of nocturnal life waft into the bedroom.

"Are you?"

I think Dex might have fallen asleep herself.

"Uh-huh. Surprisingly." We listen to the frogs and insects for a while. "I've become somewhat attached to you."

"Good." I say. "Me too."

***

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