Adam & Eve (Eve's Room) (3 page)

He wanted to keep going but I was too sensitive and had to reach my hand back for him to stop. I w
himpered and shivered as he reluctantly drew himself
out of me. I turned round, feeling elated and faintly
dizzy
, roll
ed
the condom off his dick and
graciously
tossed him off until he came
in my mout
h. His orgasm was strong; he clenched his jaws and
whined
through gritted teeth as
his
warm salty strands of cum spurt
ed
across my tongue. I gulp
ed
them down quickly and pull
ed
his dick out
of my mouth, feeling it soft
en slightly in my hand. H
e collapsed on the bed beside me and lay
on his back, eyes open
, gazing at the ceiling as his chest rose and fell triumphantly
.

‘It’s too nice a day to s
tay in bed’ I said after we’d spooned for a while.

‘I agree’ he replied, climbing out of bed and padding across my floor to the fridge.
He opened the
fridge and
drew a sharp breath through his lips
‘Did you lose your ration book or something? Why’s the fridge so bare?’
‘I haven’t been shopping
..
.
Can you pour me
an orange juice? My mouth’s
dry
’
He poured
the last of the Trop
icana into two glasses and I got out of bed to join him. We sat
naked on either side of my little table.
‘Cheers, to
you
’
he said, raising his glass
‘Cheers to
your dick
’
I grinned, clinking my glass against his.
We drank in comfortable silence, gazing into each others eyes. When
both
glass
es were
empty, he got dressed, grabbed the lipstick from my bedside table and wrote his number in bright red digits on my window, then thrust the window open letting in a fresh burst of afternoon air.
We kissed at the door, and I waved him good
bye from the top of the stairs
. He blew me a kiss from the landing, and when I heard the front door slam behind him, I returned to the tranquillity of my flat. Humming to myself, I put on my dressin
g gown and paced around
in a happy daze, not quite believing what’d just happened. I washed the
orange juice
glasses and put
the two used condoms in the bin then brushed my teeth. W
hen my heart had finally calmed down a little, I curled up in my vintage armchair and read, from beginning to end,
The Lovesong of J Alfred Prufrock.
At this point I hadn’t realised one complicated thing; I was still wearing his necklace.

16