I grit my teeth as my own body shoots off. “I’ve got you, Christina,” I say as her body continues to contract around my fingers. “I’ve got you.”
I can smell the salt of her tears, her breathing still ragged, but now I’m not sure if it’s because she finally let go or if it‘ s because her orgasm was so strong.
I slowly kiss my way up her cheek, kissing away the tear that slid down her face. Her body is still having aftershocks, so I nuzzle her nose with mine, before gently kissing her, slow and soft until I finally slide my fingers out of her.
Then I sit down beside her, ignoring the wet spot in my own pants. I need to make sure she’s okay.
“How was that?” I ask.
“Fucking amazing,” she says, making me laugh.
“I, um, I’m not sure why I’m crying,” she says
embarrassed.
“Letting go of control is never easy. It takes a lot of trust and you’ve been holding on to that control for twenty–eight years.”
“Wow, I’m uh, I’m pretty sure I’m going to sleep like a baby tonight,” she says.
“Good.” Because it feels right and because I want to make sure she’s okay, I lean down and kiss her again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nods. “Thank you.”
I tilt my head at her. “For what?”
“For not letting me fall apart.”
“I told you,” I say, stroking my finger over her cheek. “I’ve got you.”
“I should probably…”
I nod and stand, reaching out a hand to help her up.
“Sit for a minute. Let the blood return to your head. That was a pretty strong orgasm,” I say, going to get her clothes.
When I turn back, she’s frowning at the wet spot on my pants.
“You aren’t the only one who enjoyed that,” I tell her honestly. Respect is mutual. I respect her as much as she said she respects me. So, like her, I won’t lie.
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