His Hands Feel So Good On My Body

I just relaxed into it, letting him feel me. Letting him slowly undress me, almost deliberately tugging at my clothing to pull it from my body.

There wasn't much to it. Four pieces in total. But Blake wasn't in any hurry. Now that he knew he had me he knew he could absolutely take his time.

He undid the knot at the bottom of my shirt and it all fell loose and slowly he pulled it away from me, tugging it over my arms and my shoulders and up and over my head.

I wasn't much less dressed than before but god I felt so naked right now. So exposed to his eyes and his touch and it was all so very thrilling to me, an electric tingle flickering under my skin and tingling within me, my breath coming heavy and heady as I watched him reach for me and I closed my eyes, willing it to happen.

He had me like putty in his hands and he reshaped and molded me. He moved me, his fingers kneading into the small of my back to arch me backwards as his other hand turned my face away from him while he buried his lips in the nape of my neck and started to trace a trail down.

His hands coming up to meet his lips in the middle. As Blake buried himself into the feast of my cleavage and his kisses fell onto me like a rain.

"You are so unbelievable," he whispered into my skin, "I can't get enough of you. Oh fuck, Em. I need more."

My thighs were squeezing together again and again and again as I felt him stoking the fire in my belly. A hollow place in the pit of me ached for him, wanted to give him every last inch of me.

But I knew that I shouldn't. I knew, somehow, that I would regret it if I did.

Part of me was looking at it a little like a bandaid, rip it off and deal with the pain and regret afterwards. Let him push my shorts to the ground and bend me over and just fucking take me.

But god I knew that if I did...

The white picket fence. The almost happily ever after. The... the being his happy little homemaker.

Minus the happiness.

Of all the lives and futures I had caught a glimpse of Blake seemed to have the most appeal. It wasn't terrifying like Eddie or hollow like Lucas. It wasn't a friendship enhanced like with Rachel.

But it lacked something. It lacked... surprise.

Like a dance where I already knew the steps. Like a movie where I already knew the ending. Maybe if I hadn't had a glimpse of my future that future would have been enough. Ninety-nine percent of perfection and sure I could hold out for more but that was partly unrealistic.

But knowing it as I did made it all so much more risky.

I might fuck Blake Hyde, I very well might. I might let him have me one of these days.

But he wouldn't be my first. He couldn't be my first. No more than Lucas or Eddie could.

I'd never been special or precious about my virginity but Emily might have been. And her attachment to her first time plus my attachment to those instrumental figures from another life meant that being with them for her first time would be doubly important to her. Trying to pull back from them afterwards would be like trying to escape the gravity of a black hole once I was already past the event horizon.

I couldn't fuck Blake now. I couldn't fuck him first.

"The shorts stay on," I whispered, breathing the words out the air, "I can't take them off."

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