and she concentrates on it till her head thobs. Just the physical sensations. The perfection of his body, the idea that he is moving inside her, the idea of sex. Because this must make her come. Penis the size and shape of a porn star, and what he does with it, athletic, but gentle all at once. The neatness of it. THe freshly made bed, the privacy, the scent of lavender on the pillow.
She opens her eyes and he is there. This beautiful boy. He is there with her, but he is tiring. She has made him wait too long. Soon he will stop.
She promised herself that she wouldn't think about him again but of course she does. It is too hard for her not to. The distraction of him. Not nearly as beautiful as her own man, but something about him, the un-polished, sloppy mess of him, the raw nervousness. So she closes her eyes and lets him invade her. The image of him, the memory and she comes quickly with this odd betrayal, finally, against her better judgement.