Page 117 of The Score

I pull her panties aside and dive into her again.

She moans. "Already forgotten."

She shivers. We're still clothed, and the wet fabric cools down fast. It contrasts with the heat pooling in my belly, and the burning hot, slick flesh under my tongue. Deep red and swollen and so delicious, I'm getting hooked on it from this one taste. I don't want it to end. I need to play with this pretty cunt until she taps out.

Eventually, she does. She asks to reciprocate but I decline, needing this night to be only about her and her fantasies. In the haze of my unfulfilled needs, I've convinced myself it's how I'll remember the new promises I've made. The ache will imprint in my brain, my body, myheart, until it's impossible for me to forget we're keeping this to her bucket list and nothing else.

Tonight, we fall asleep in each other's arms. Warm and cozy dry and without a need for blankets, we're in such a perfect state. For once, we don't have to worry about what kind of pretenses we'll have to play in the morning, when we wake up tangled up in each other and aroused.

Morning comes too soon. It's still dark but, in my room, that doesn't mean a whole lot. I check my watch, pleased to find it's only been a few hours since I learned how much Pen enjoys my tongue on her. The same kind of feeling spreads through my chest, to find her in my arms again.

My childhood neighbor. My best friend. My wife. There are things she never got to do, and she is letting me do them for her. It's setting me up on a path I didn't expect, but that I must follow.

My eyes close, but not to fall asleep. I have better plans than that. We have some time before I have to tear myself from our nest and drag my feet to a long day of training.

"Mhh," I mutter.

I'm hard again. There's a chance my erection never went away as I slept. I don't usually edge myself this long. Postponing orgasms isn't my style. But something in me is still adamant that I don't rush this thing with Pen. I'll need the time to track every sigh, every sign, every moment, to make sure we don't mess anything up. And the longer I suffer, the faster I'll learn what this new part of our relationship is meant to be.

It doesn't mean we can't keep doing what we were doing last night.

Like almost every morning, I'm spooning her. I smile. Unlike other times, today I get to do something I've had to stop myself from doing over the last few weeks.

I kiss a spot under her ear. "Pen."

She doesn't move. One of my legs is between hers, and I push it up just a bit.

"Pen."

"Mhhh?"

"Wake up," I whisper.

I caress her shoulder. Kiss it. Smell her neck.

"Bear?"

"I hope you didn't expect someone else."

"Huh?" She turns in my arms somewhat, like in her confusion she needs to make sure.

"Here." I take her hand and put it on my face. "This beard? It's your best friend's beard."

"So many men could have a beard like that," she mumbles.

"No one else made you come at least three times with his mouth in just one session."

"Oh, yeah." Humor appears in her voice. "That small thing that happened last night."

I push my boner against her ass. "You're calling it a small thing? I'm offended."

"Well, it's not like I got to see it in the flesh at all."

She tries to turn around fully, but I stop her.

"You'll get to see it one day."

"One day?!" she whisper-screams. "Damn, Leon Karlsen. I didn't expect it would take us years to get to the things on my list. Isn't twenty years long enough for you?"