Stay

The couple lay on the sofa taking solace in the silence, taking comfort off each other. He kissed the top of her head. He inhaled her fragrance, and engorged himself with arousal towards wanting her again.

But he had to stem back his emotions. He had to stop himself, least they took things further than they already have.

She laid against his chest, pretending to be asleep. Outside, a rain shower pattered against the windows. The hour and minute hands on the wall clock said it was nearing a quarter past six in the evening. He ought to be getting her home before curfew.

He didn’t want to let her go, but knew he should.

“Shelly,” he whispered her name. “Shelly, wake up.”

“Hmmmm.”

“It’s getting late. They’re going to be looking for you.”

“So let them look,” she murmured. “I don’t care. I’m safe here.”

She took his hand in hers. She loved the warmth that flowed between them. It was similar to that of the sun on a hot day by the beach. She wanted him, and yet she didn’t want to rush. He was hers to command; it was he who had to come to her. All he had to do was utter the words and she would get out of her clothes.

“You cannot stay longer, Shelly,” he pleaded. “The city curfew will begin in an hour. I’ve got to get you home before your folks find you missing.”

“And what if they do, Mark?”

“They’ll know whom you’re with,” he said. “I can’t face your folks no more, especially your pops.”

Shelly opened her eyes. “Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“You know that’s the last thing I ever wanna do. But your old man hates my guts.”

“My old man is a fucking racist,” she said.

“Your pop loves you.”

“He’s a racist, and he hates black people, and I hate his fucking guts,” she spat.

“He’s still your pops. I can’t take you away from him.”

“I don’t want you to,” she said, squeezing his hand in hers. “I want you to let me stay.”

He frowned. “You want to stay?”

“Yeah. Is that alright?”

“I can’t. You’ve got to get going home. It’s getting late.”

Silence. Shelly turned to face him. Her eyes beseeched him with yearning lust.

“Alright, if you want me to go, then I’ll go. First give me a kiss.”

Against better judgement, he knew he shouldn’t dare. Except he figured beforehand more than likely that she would demand such from him. He knew there would be trouble if he disinclined.

“Just a kiss?”

“Yes, babe. One little kiss, and then I’ll get going.”

He acquiesced. Their lips met in a quaint kiss.

Their tongues slipped between each other’s lips.

Their hands tightened their grip.

Mark gestured at her to climb off him, which she did. Holding her hand, he led her out of the lounge room, past the dark corridor, into the bedroom.

A blackout suddenly occurred, and the electricity went out. Evening grew darker beyond the curfew hour. Neither of them bothered to light a candle. It was easy for them to find each other in the dark. Like separate keys of a piano, their limbs caressed and fondled each other. Their lips clashed with fervent passion while simultaneously they discarded their clothes.

Shelly spread herself on the bed. She searched in the dark space and found her lover’s face, then directed him to her warmth. Mark went where he was being led. His lips made contact with her punani. She broke into a sigh as he then ravished her cunt with his tongue. His fingers pinched her clit and her body undulated like the rise and fall of the sea. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed into my medulla, flooding her mind and body with exquisite Dopamine-type sensations. Her feet caressed his shoulders. She moaned and thrashed on the bed, while pleading at her lover not to stop.

Mark buried his face into her snatch. He withdrew only to catch his breath and to taste her cum off his lips, before diving back again like a fisherman after the biggest trout catch. When he came up the last time, Shelly sat up and felt her hand over his body but stopped when she came to his groin. Mark balanced himself on one knee while she slid under him to lock her mouth onto his penis. He slid his hand under her head and lifted her up to swallow more of his manhood.

The darkness in the room was punctuated by the crashing rain outside the window and the slurping noise that came with foreplay.

Neither of them spoke much: they communicated through means of touch as he carefully laid on the bed while she manoeuvred to be on top of him. Her hand never let go of his cock; she caressed his hard-on then inserted him where she wanted him to be. She held her breath upon contact, then gradually began to ride him.

His hands grasped her arms, then danced over her breasts.

Her breathing increased as she gradually picked up the pace.

She fell forward, gasping inches from his face as her lips then sought him.

“I love you, babe,” she whispered amid kisses.

“I love you back.”

Their hands frantically locked together . . . their breathing deepened as did their frantic movement . . . the bed squeaked . . . Shelly flung her head back and let off a searing cry . . . Mark sat immediately upright and locked his arms around her . . . CLIMAX!

They fell back on the bed; they luxuriated in their sweat. Outside, the downpour continued; the blackout continued to reign over the city. There was no talk about anyone returning home that night.

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SEX, LOVE & QUARANTINE: A collection of erotic short stories detailing how numerous couples and individuals are handling their sexual pleasures in this current age of the pandemic coronavirus.