Post Breakup Sex

by Sibylla Matilde

  My mouth watered and my dick stiffened.

  But Drew was all business. He glanced up from the drawing to see where she was pointing, and nodded. “Yeah, it would be great there. I’d recommend that you get it at least two to three inches tall so I can get some good detail in there. If it’s your first, my guess is that you don’t want it huge, right?”

  “Yeah,” Sophie nodded, “not gargantuan or anything.”

  “Okay, it will take a little over and hour and a half. Maybe two hours, tops. I could do it tonight if you want to hang out for a little bit.”

  Sophie smiled up at me. “Sounds great to me, but you brought me here. Do you mind waiting around?”

  Not at all.

  About forty-five minutes later, Sophie lay back in a chair, her jeans unbuttoned and pulled down just enough to reveal her hip. And it was giving me one hell of a chub.

  “Does it hurt?” she asked.

  “Just a little,” I replied, “but not bad.”

  “This spot can be kind of tender,” Drew explained with a grin, “but there’re a lot of worse places you can get it done.”

  At the first touch of the needle, Sophie’s body stiffened slightly, and her fingers gripped my arm. Her eyes closed and she took a deep calming breath.

  “You okay?” I asked softly.

  “Yeah,” she murmured with a terse tone, “just getting used to it, that’s all.”

  I brushed the hair back from her eyes, and she looked up at me, studying me as Drew worked on the dark lines of the heart and the outline of Kermit in the center. Focusing on my face seemed to settle her, to draw her attention away from the discomfort. Occasionally, a sharp jab would catch her off guard, and I’d quickly lower my lips to her forehead to kiss away the pain.

  Somewhere, after the outline was done and Drew started to fill in the color, Sophie’s eyes began to grow dark. Like the heat was starting to rush through her, like the prickling pain was an aphrodisiac. Her breathing became shallow, her pulse began to beat. My hands shook when a breathy gasp escaped her lips, and I felt her body lean up into my touch.

  The expressions that crossed her face had my body pulsing with need, hard as stone, aching and throbbing. I had seen similar looks on her before, in the pale light of the neon beer sign when I was buried balls deep. It seemed like the small sounds that left her throat were echoes of our passion. The sharp intake of breath. The small whimpering sigh.

  By the time Drew had finished, I was sweating. I was painfully hard. I was pretty sure I was going to explode.

  “Okay,” Drew said, setting the tattoo gun aside and holding a mirror to Sophie so she could get a good look. “What do you think?”

  Low on her hip, following the curve of her body, was a slightly smaller, more rounded version of the tattoo on my wrist. The entire outer part curved more into the shape of the heart, and the dark jagged lines swirled and curled a touch, appearing slightly softer and more feminine. And right there in the middle of the heart sat a perfect little Kermit the Frog.

  Sophie smiled wide. “I love it,” she whispered. “Oh my gosh, I love it.”

  Her sparkling eyes rose to meet mine, and she lifted her head to place a quick kiss on my lips before settling back again to look back into the mirror.

  Drew placed a piece of clear plastic over it and taped it down with athletic tape. “Leave this on for a couple hours, then take it off before you go to bed tonight.” He sat back on his rolling stool, reaching back for a piece of paper on the counter that he handed to Sophie. “Use cold water to wash it,” he explained, pointing here and there on the instruction sheet, “and a liquid antibacterial soap, but just very gently with your fingers. When you’re done, carefully pat it dry and spread a very fine layer of A&D cream or something on it. Nothing petroleum-based.”

  Sophie nodded as he spoke.

  “You shouldn’t use a bandage because it has to breathe, and wear kind of loose clothing for a good week or so. Also,” Drew winked, “you have to be very careful to keep it clean, so you will want to maybe try an alternative position or put something over it when you two are getting busy.”

  Her eyes went wide at Drew’s off-handed comment, and I couldn’t help but laugh as the phone began to ring in the other room.

  Drew glanced at the clock. It was just after six-thirty. “Shit,” he said getting up and heading out of the room, “I think Raven went home, so I should probably answer that.”

  Sophie, face flushed but eyes hot and needy, looked up at me once he'd left the small room. The air suddenly seemed heated as I watched her hungrily.

  “I think I need a little more information about these other positions,” she murmured, biting her lip.

  “Oh yeah?” I smiled.

  Sophie leaned up on her elbows, bringing her mouth within an inch of mine. “Yeah, because something about this has me so hot right now. But I don’t want to mess up my ink.” She lightly kissed me and then whispered against my lips. “So maybe you could just fuck me from behind.”

  “Jesus,” I gasped. “I’ve never heard you say fuck before, and that was really fucking hot.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever said fuck before,” Sophie giggled. “I feel kind of… naughty all of a sudden.”

  “I want to hear you say it more,” I growled as I caught her face in my hands and kissed her hard. “I want to hear you moan and scream it when I’m deep inside you.”

  Sophie’s breath caught in her throat, and then came back in a rush. “Take me somewhere, Brannon. Right now. I’m going to die if you don’t touch me soon.”

  My hand lay low on her stomach, just a touch away from being in her open pants. Upon hearing her ragged whisper, I slipped down farther dipping into the wetness between her thighs. Sophie gasped and I gave her another quick, hard kiss.

  “Shh,” I whispered against her lips, “Drew is right outside that open door. I want to see if I can make you come before he gets back.” Her eyes flew open and looked up at me as I trailed some of her wetness up to spread it around her clit. Praying that Drew would get sidetracked and not come right back, I added a little pressure and circled her sensitive bud with my thumb. At the same time, I hooked my finger inside her and rubbed that sweet spot that made her squirm and whimper.

  And then I heard footsteps in the hall.

  “Fuck,” I muttered as I pulled my hand away.

  “No,” she quietly moaned, and I caught her cry with my mouth, kissing her deeply.

  Drew’s footsteps stopped at the open door, and his voice was full of laughter as he spoke. “Do you guys need a few minutes? I can come back.”

  I lifted my head to look down at Sophie’s sensual gaze and almost told him yes. Fuck yes, actually.

  Except I wanted her completely naked, sprawled out in my bed. I wanted her to scream and swear and scratch at me when I rode her hard and fierce.

  “Are you ready to go?” I asked her.

  Sophie nodded, exhaling a labored breath. “Please,” she whispered. “Take me somewhere. Take me anywhere.”

  It took me no more than fifteen minutes to get her back to my apartment, another one and a half to get her completely naked, and within another minute, she was on my lap rocking over my dick while she leaned back against my chest. Her legs spread wide as I fingered her clit and grunted into her ear.

  “How’s that, Soph? How does my cock feel?”

  “Oh God, Brannon,” she gasped and ground down against me. The tight squeeze of her pussy made me wild, and I bit down on her shoulder, causing her to cry out and move faster. She began to shake and sob. For a second she froze, and then screamed.

  “Fuck!”

  “Oh, Christ, Sophie,” I growled and grasped her hips, lifting and slamming her down hard onto me as she cried out. I felt the flood of release build up, my balls tight and aching, and then it all poured out of me with a harsh, throaty groan.

  Sophie limply eased back against me, her face turned into my neck, my heavy breathing ruffling her soft, sweet-smelling ban
gs. My eyes focused on her bare breasts, rising and falling with our combined exertion, and my fingertips trailed up her stomach to curve around the swells of flesh. Our ragged breathing filled the room, and my heart felt like it was going to leap right out of my chest. I don’t know that I’d ever come that hard, and my brain function was slow to return.

  I felt the light touch of Sophie’s fingers comb through my hair, and felt her whisper against my skin.

  “I think I want another tattoo.”

  I burst into laughter, holding her tightly against me as she lost herself in a fit of giggles. “Fuck, Sophie,” I breathed, wiping tears of amusement from my eyes, “you’re gonna kill me.”

  I led Sophie, naked and still giggling, towards the bathroom where I slipped off the condom and tossed it in the trash. I leaned down to check her tat, and the plastic still covered it, undisturbed. Handing her a flannel shirt that hung from a hook in my bathroom, I reached for a pair of basketball shorts and slipped them on. Sophie was just finishing doing up the buttons as I looked back up, appearing even sexier than she had a few minutes ago. If that was even possible.

  Then my stomach growled loud and strong, and she dissolved into another fit of laughter.

  I turned her towards the bathroom door and guided her back out to the hallway. “Let’s go see what I’ve got to eat,” I chuckled as I swatted her lightly on the ass. “You keep jumping my bones, I’m going to need food to get my strength up.”

  “I know how to cook a little,” she said shyly. “I’ve not had a lot of practice, but I had to take home ec as a requirement in high school.”

  “I can actually cook quite a bit, baby,” I grinned, “so don’t worry about it. I’m just not sure what all I’ve got to make.”

  I looked through the fridge, but didn’t see a whole lot since I didn’t eat at home much. More condiments than anything. But, digging through the freezer, I found some frozen cauliflower and a couple tilapia fillets, then rummaged back through the fridge to grab the parmesan, butter, and mayonnaise.

  “Have a seat,” I smiled back at Sophie. “I’ve got something awesome I can make that only takes a few minutes.”

  She perched on one of the stools at my counter, prim as could be in my flannel shirt, one smooth, bare leg crossed over the other as she watched me go to work. With the oven heating, I mixed the parmesan and mayo, spreading it over the fish while the cauliflower steamed in the microwave. I placed the fish under the broiler, stirred and buttered the cauliflower, and, in no time at all, had a plate for each of us.

  “Oh wow,” Sophie exclaimed when she took a bite of the tilapia, “this is really good.”

  “I like it because it’s easy.”

  “But it’s really, really good. I think I want you to cook for me every day,” she grinned as she popped a piece of cauliflower into her mouth.

  I gave her a quick kiss on the lips as she chewed. “Anytime, Soph.”

  Everything felt so damn easy. So right. I wasn’t the type of guy to do shit like this. To cook for a chick, even if it wasn’t much. To have a girl stick around after sex. I generally wanted them out the door pretty quick, if I even brought them back to my place at all, which was a very rare occurrence in itself. But there was just something about Sophie that made me think I could get used to this.

  And that sort of sent an apprehensive ripple through my gut.

  I never even asked her if she wanted to go home. I think I was maybe a little afraid that she’d say yes, so I just sort of held her hostage, naked except for my flannel shirt, tucked against my side as we watched Underworld. Sophie was enthralled by the story, the sexy undertones, the black leather outfit that Kate Beckinsale wore (which tended to enthrall me a fair amount, too). By the end, though, her eyes were drooping and she gave a long yawn that I felt through her whole body. Her eyes drifted closed once, then again as the credits began to roll.

  “You’re staying, right, Soph?” I quietly asked.

  She languidly looked up at me, studying me for a minute before she nodded. “If you’ll let me.”

  If I’d let her? For fuck’s sake, here I'd been weighing the pros and cons of kidnapping her if she said no.

  “Lift up for a sec,” I said, and she sat up, shivering as she left the warmth of my bare chest. I pulled her to a stand, and led her to the bathroom where I peeled away the plastic covering her tattoo. Kneeling before her, I gently washed the inked skin in cool water, patted it dry, and reached for the A&D cream.

  “It’s nice that you’re prepared,” she smiled down at me.

  “Been there, done that,” I smiled as I put a thin layer of cream over her ink and gently soothed it in. “I’ve got the tattoo aftercare thing pretty well down.”

  Her fingers brushed through my tousled hair, a tender gesture that made me feel protective and horned up all at once, and I placed a soft kiss beside the tat.

  “There you go,” I said, rising back up to my full height and looking down at her tender expression, “that’s all there is to it.”

  Sophie leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss me, just a feather-light brush of her lips on mine.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  I reached into the top drawer by my sink and pulled out a new toothbrush, a spare I’d gotten from the dentist not long after that first night we’d spent together. It had been a while back, shortly after that first party, and my head had been swirling with thoughts of Sophie. Telling myself that I was not doing exactly what I was doing, I had picked a blue-green color because it reminded me of her eyes.

  Pulling the brush from the packaging, I handed it to her and grabbed the tube of toothpaste. For a second, Sophie hesitated before taking the brush from my hand. A silent question reflected in her eyes as she looked up at me.

  “It’s an extra,” I said with a nonchalant smile. “Got it at my last dental check-up appointment. Not sure if you’re the same way, but I hate having grungy teeth.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured in response as I grabbed my own toothbrush and started brushing.

  It was weirdly domestic, standing there with her at the bathroom sink. Freakishly comfortable, and I pushed that sensation to the back of my mind. Examining this too closely would not be a good idea.

  Finally, I led her back to my room, to my not-so-fancy-but-really-fucking-comfortable bed, and tucked her in between the dark blue flannel sheets. A quick turn around the apartment to turn off the lights, and I joined her, pulling her tight against me and burying my face in the sweet smell of her long, blonde hair.

  “I got a job!” Sophie squealed into the phone as I stepped into the office of my shop and closed the door behind me. I didn’t need Cody listening in and giving me shit about talking to a chick on the phone. He was already kind of looking at me weird since I’d suddenly lain off the constant pussy hunt.

  And I didn’t really want to have to fire him again this week.

  “A job? Why did you do that?” I laughed. “I didn’t even know you were looking for one.”

  “This is all part of the new me. I’m trying to be self-sufficient and not rely on my parents and their money so much,” Sophie explained, talking a mile a minute in her excitement. “Anyway, today I stopped by Lily’s salon. She was in the middle of chewing out her receptionist for skipping out of work. She hadn’t called or anything for two days, then showed up this morning like it was nothing. Lily told her she needed to get her act together. The girl got all huffy and nasty, so Lily fired her. And I’m her receptionist now.”

  “Well, that’s great, Soph.”

  “Lily wants me to go out with some of her friends tonight to celebrate. I guess it’s Women’s Wednesday at Teasers and they're having male strippers or something. I've never been to see strippers before,” she laughed. “I am a little nervous, though. It’s some of the girls from the Mofo parties¸ but also a bunch of girls I don’t know.”

  A week or so had passed, and things seemed oddly settled somehow. Sophie avoided her family whenever she could, usually by hi
ding out at my place. An unspoken arrangement that sorta worked a little too well. Sophie’s hot little body in my bed almost every night. Yet avoiding any mention of feelings or attachment.

  Every guy’s dream, right?

  Yet, even though we hadn’t said a word about it, something was happening between us. But it made me more than a little nervous. Right at the moment, it was tenuous and fragile.

  Now she was going to be spending the evening at a strip club in Butte getting bombed with a bunch of mostly naked dudes, as well as a bunch of skanky girls who knew me entirely too well. With a sudden sense of dread piercing my gut, I wondered how many of the chicks I’d fucked in the past.

  Sophie seemed nervous. Maybe she was wondering the same. Or maybe she was just genuinely feeling shy and self-conscious in general.

  “You’ll be fine, Soph,” I said, doing my best to reassure my own apprehensive dread as much as hers. “Just keep my number handy and give me a call if you need me.”

  “I don’t want to be bugging you all the time.”

  “No bother, Sophie… ever.”

  “Relax the cacks, Brannon, and quit checking your phone,” Denny laughed, looking over the pool table at me as he lined up his shot. It was Wednesday evening, and the Copperline was a bit quiet with only a few of the die-hard regulars sitting at the bar.

  “Fuck off,” I replied. “I’m just a little concerned because the last I heard they were doing Jägerbombs. Sophie doesn’t have a lot of experience drinking heavy stuff.”

  “Fuck, you’re acting like a mother hen,” Cody scoffed, handing me the pool cue. “Just calm the fuck down and take your shot.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do, you fucker,” I muttered back as I took my shot, “or I’ll fire your ass.”

  My mind was so not in the game, though, and I didn’t come remotely close to getting a single ball in the pocket. So I gave him the cue back, sat down, and checked my phone again.

  Still nothing.

  Should I text? Should I call? Did I sound like a needy motherfucker?