Fearless Like Us (Like Us 9)

The three of us are so far beyond that.

I didn’t go slow enough with her.

Crap.

Crap.

Sulli needs slower. She’s had sex a whopping three times, and I’m over here pinning her arms up again like she’s used to this shit—stuff.

This stuff.

“Yeah—oh hey, Kits, I’m really okay. I don’t want you to think I don’t like that.”

“I do think it.”

“It’s hot,” she emphasizes. “It was bad timing on my part…I just want to…” Face flushed, Sulli fumbles with the music in her shorts. She turns off Spice Girls. “That’s all.”

I relax in one breath.

And I end up smiling. “You’re letting Mozart beat Sporty Spice?” I name her favorite Spice Girl.

“This one time, yeah. I just know what Mozart and Bach and all the classicals mean to you.”

That washes over me. We stare at each other with deeper memories, and I blink back some burgeoning feeling that pricks my eyes. Sulli has been one of the closest friends to me over the years, and I let her into my life, even when other guys cautioned me “don’t get close to your client” and “don’t be a buddy-guard”—I never thought twice about being friends with her.

It just came naturally.

Like the day Sulli asked why I listen to classical jams during workouts and not rap or throwback hip hop (my go-to genres).

The answer: my mom.

Growing up, I’d spend hours in a Muay Thai gym. One that closed in Philly a little bit after she retired. And I’d watch her train with Bach, Beethoven, and everything in between playing in the background. She loves this music, and so these songs became synonymous to martial arts and her.

Sometimes, I come back to them for nostalgia. To remember those idyllic childhood days gone by.

Other times, I come back to them to feel close to her. Even though she’s only a state away, it’s always felt like she’s wanted to add greater distance between us. To emotionally detach for my sake ever since her health took a toll.

Mozart grows louder in the gym and in our quiet. I move back up against Sulli.

Being physical with her is just as overwhelming for me. Like plunging head-first in ice-cold water. I spent so long denying and resisting my feelings that giving in now is a head-rush.

Sulli whispers, “Kits…if you could do anything to me now, what would you do?”

I thumb the hem of her shirt. “I’d strip you. Layer by layer…” I clasp her squared jaw, her lips parting in an aching breath that ripples through me. “Until you’re bare against me.” Our intimacy is laced with years of friendship, of teasing and pulling, and as we skate towards bearing our bodies, a vulnerability hangs between us that I can feel Sulli gripping on.

“The only security cameras are outside, right?” Sulli asks.

“Right.”

“So what are you waiting for then?” Sulli says in challenge.

“The okay from you,” I whisper, not about to push her in a direction she’s not ready for.

Sulli breathes the word like its erupting inside her, “Okay.” And I immediately pull her tee over her head. Tossing it aside. As I slowly, slowly slide the shorts down her thighs and long, long legs, Sulli touches the back of her sports bra.

“Should I…?” She hesitates. “Or…should you?”

“Me,” I kiss her lips, then whisper, “Just watch me. Don’t think, string bean.”

Sulli lets out a tiny, aroused noise. “Fuck.” She places a hand on her forehead, watching as I squat down to slip her shorts off each ankle. I kiss her calf, then up to her thigh, and I graze my fingertips up towards her panties.

Standing fully upright again, my muscles burn, already dying to be against her body. I slide her sports bra over her head. She reaches for my hands, and I hold them and bring her to my chest. “You okay?” I ask in a deep whisper.

“I’m cold,” she admits with a laugh.

I smile into a laugh too, and I rub her arms, adding friction. Her tits are driving me wild, but I want to warm Sulli up. She hugs onto me like a koala bear, and I’d rather not detach her.

Gently, I bring us to the mats with a slow kiss. Her shoulders rest against the mat, and I break apart her legs with my knees. While she’s only in cotton panties, I shed my shirt, and I return to her mouth. Heat brews between us, as we kiss and I grind.

Her goosebumps vanish.

Breath is hot and heavy, and life feels wrapped around us.

“Sulli,” I almost groan.

I clasp her wrists and pull them above her head again. Only now, she’s on the floor, and I look into her eyes that swirl with pleasure. I see how she intakes our bodies. How I’m fit between her legs, how her thin panties barely hide her pussy.

And so I ask, “Have you ever pictured this?”