My Body Came for Me

My bed is not spare. Narrowly it allowed both Jay and I to find sleep room in it; the stuffed animals slept on the floor. I explained it to them and kissed them both to make up for it. Jay says 19-year-olds do not routinely sleep with stuffed animals. Jay says a lot of many things, on the occasion he talks at all. He doesn’t much. Perhaps because all the things he says are the sort one ends up remembering it seems as though he says a lot. So we slept together in my narrow bed last night. And I made sure we didn’t fall asleep immediately. I rubbed his back, chest, sides, sucked both nipples hard, his arms holding around me and holding me in place and a little pressure on the back of my head. I wondered in dream hunger if that’s how babies feel. Or maybe I was just remembering. I fell asleep at one point and woke up lying on my side, spooned against Jay with his mouth on my neck and his fingers rooting in me. It was pitch dark but whenever I see his hands I stare at his fingers with no little amazement knowing they have been inside me, have fit, curving thickly, two or even three at a time inside me. I rolled to my back as he knelt above me, I could almost hear him thinking about whether or not to go down on me. He opted not to. We fucked missionary that way, with the insidious addition of a condom. His naked cock rubbing me is hot and smooth and more....savage than when sanitized in latex. I came when he did. I think I did. I shook. I had no special orgasm thought though. But I don’t always. I often do. So maybe I’m just trying to convince myself of what? But my body shook and I clenched my teeth for quiet and afterwards even after he pulled out of me my body continued to burst into little shuddering aftershocks. Perhaps my body came for me.