The Scent of Her

He pressed closer to her and went just a little faster, and when she got there, she made that wonderful sound again. He froze inside her, felt her pulse around him, it was a wonderful tight squeeze but he still wasn't quite there, he had to move some more. He pushed a little, she moaned, and then he lost it and thrust inside her. He had lost his rhythm, he let his body take over, he just thrust deep inside her, fast, hard, demanding, almost desperate.

She looked at him when he came, her hands in his hair. He moaned and pulsed inside her, pulled out just a little just to get to thrust deep in again, the movement of his hips slowly grinding to a halt. She pulled his head against her neck, his body on top of hers, and carefully he let his weight on her, feeling how fast his breathing was now that his chest was against hers. He was sweaty but she didn't seem to mind. She held him against her, in her. He felt his erection slowly subsiding but wanted to keep deep in her slick smoothness and never leave.

"Oh, Teddy," she said tenderly. She let her hands slide on his back. He loved her touch, it was so gentle.

"I love you," he said to her neck, still out of breath.

"No you don't," she said and he knew it had been a wrong thing to say.

He knew she didn't believe him and it probably brought Carol to her mind. He felt her retreating already, she wasn't all there anymore. But he really meant it, he really loved her, she was so perfect. Maybe he shouldn't have said that, but it had just slipped from him and now there was no way to take it back. She pushed him a little but he didn't get off her, he still held her and said, insistently, "I never stopped loving you. I'm not good at letting things go. I will always love you."

He stayed still, still inside her, waiting if she would push him away, deny him, if she didn't believe him. But she didn't, she put her fingers back into his hair and sighed. He kissed her neck, the smooth salty skin, and felt her pulse under his lips.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know."

"Sorry about what?"

"This, having sex with you. I wouldn't have if I knew you felt that way."

"But, honey," he said and lifted his head to see her.

She looked at him, caressed his cheek with her hand, she was solemn and a little sorrowful. And then she kissed him, very gently. He felt his penis responding to her, and she smiled, but she pushed him out all the same, pushed him off her. She nestled into his arms, looking at him, resting her chin on her hand on his chest.

"I just don't want to hurt you," she said.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "I don't regret it for a second. You're excellent. It's excellent with you."

She smiled and pulled the covers on them, holding him, letting him hold her. He was so satisfied and relaxed he fell asleep again, there in her arms.

When he woke up again she had left. He reached for her, disappointed she wasn't in his arms anymore, the feeling deepening as he woke up more and realized it was too quiet. He got up to look for her but he just knew she wasn't there anymore, he couldn't feel her presence. He went through the suite anyway, and it was empty, as empty as he felt. He felt abandoned, more lonely than he had been, and he went back to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed.

His eyes settled upon clothes thrown across the floor, and he realized she had left her t-shirt behind, the one she had worn in the concert, which probably meant she had nicked one of his to wear. He picked it up and held it to his face, smelling her wonderful scent, and then he curled up on the bed and cried.