“Pell,” she moans, her hips urging me to go faster.
But I don’t. I won’t.
I slow down, choosing to turn her on with the closeness of us. The passion in our kisses. The way I softly caress her breast and the depth of penetration.
She gets it too. Because even though I’m going slow, everything about her begins to pick up pace. Her breathing. Her heartbeat. The way she rubs her thighs up and over my hips and the pressure of her fingernails digging into the hard muscles of my shoulders.
Then she’s there.
We’re both there.
It creeps up on us. And I like that. I like the surprise when we both realize that this joining is perfection and our progression to climax was easy and natural.
Our release isn’t an explosion. There is no epiphany, no song of angels and trumpets.
But it’s better than all those things combined.
It’s like an out-of-body experience. It’s like we become one.
Two souls merged. A couple connected.
In the middle of this climax I open my eyes and find us—not in the Roman party room, but truly in that forest of trees. The woods. My woods.
Her nails dig deeper into my flesh as she squeezes her pussy around my cock. Gushing her release as I fill her up with mine.
I close my eyes to groan with pleasure, and when I open them again, we’re back. In the middle of the palace orgy, surrounded by hedonists and their extravagant sexual exploits.
And even though it was easy, I find that I am spent. So I lower myself down, then roll to the side of her, pulling her close to me the way I wanted to when I was in her bed last night, but didn’t.
Here, we can do what we want.
Here, we can be what we want.
And maybe, one day, out there we can do that too.
She’s breathing hard and when I press my chest up against her back, I can feel her heart racing. A quick, staccato, pounding beat. We lie there silent for a little bit as the party continues on without us. But eventually, we both know this is over.
“Regrets?” I ask.
She sits up a little so she can look at me. Her hair is a mess of blonde waves, some of it sweaty. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes and mouth give off a tired, but satiated look. Then she opens her eyes wider and straightens her back. “Shit, you’re already having regrets?”
“No, not me.” So innocent. So naïve. So damn cute. “You, silly.”
She points to herself. “Me?” Her blush increases. “No. Why do you say that?”
“Just making sure.”
She sits up a little more, leaning back against the cushions, her fingers absently twining around in my hair. It’s longer here. I shave it regularly back home because it’s bothersome. But I like the way this feels and so I close my eyes and enjoy it.
“Are you ready to go back?”
“Are you?”
She thinks about this. “No. This place was OK. But the best thing about it is you.”
I smile at that. “What is it you’re looking for, Pie Vita?”
I can feel her shrug. “I dunno. Does the hallway take requests?”
I chuckle, eyes still closed, the memory of being inside her still very real. “Not really,” I finally say.
“I’m willing to take my chances.”
“If you had a request, where would you want to go?”
“Well.” She pauses. “Not here. You said you lived here—”
“I did.”
“OK. But you’re a man here.”
I open one eye. “And?”
“And there are places where you’re not a man, obviously. I want to see those places.”
“I won’t look like this in those places.”
She nods. “I know.”
Now I sit up. “You like me the way I am. When we’re not here, I mean.”
It’s not a question, it’s a statement. And it makes her smile, then laugh. “What’s not to like? I mean… horns, Pell. Horns come with hornjobs—”
“You’re just being silly now.”
“No, really. This is OK. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re a hot man. But it’s not you. Unless I’m wrong and this is you?”
“No. It’s not me.”
“You’ve never been a man, have you?”
I scoff. “I’ve always been a man, Pie. The word you’re looking for, the word everyone is always looking for when they ask this question, is human. I’ve never been a human. But I have always been a man.”
She stares into my eyes for a prolonged moment. Then she nods. “OK. I get it.”
“I doubt that.” But I drop it and move on to something else because this topic bothers me and I don’t want to get into it now. “Should we keep going then?”
She side-eyes me and shrugs with one shoulder. “Do we have a choice?”
“Not really. I mean, we can stay here or we can leave. Those are our choices.”
She looks around. The party is even wilder than it was before. Almost everyone is fucking. Dancing, singing, naked, fucking. “I’m bored with this place.”