*Adult Content*

 

His hands clasp within hers as he holds them against the bed.  He moves inside of her, staring down at her face as he watches the emotions move across it.  He’s discovered that he likes this.  Likes keeping his eyes open and watching her as he fucks her.  Somehow it makes him seem in control.  That in the few minutes he has with her, he’s making sure she’s not thinking about anyone or anything but him.

 

He knows her expressions by heart now.  He knows when she’s uncomfortable.  When she likes what he’s doing or how he’s moving.  He knows when she wants him to be gentle or to fuck her so hard it feels like he’s going to break her.  He knows it all and uses it all to his advantage.  Or maybe to hers.  He’s not truly sure.

 

He slams into her again and laughs softly as her mouth opens and she begins to moan.  He knows she’s close but he doesn’t want this to end just yet so he slows his rhythm until he finally stops and her eyes flutter open onto his.  This is what he likes the most.  That look of longing he sees in her eyes.  That silent begging she’s doing right now.  She wants him and only him and he loves that. 

 

He leans down and brushes his lips against hers before he releases her hands and moves his own to the headboard and starts to move again.  He feels her wrap her arms around his waist, bringing his torso as close to hers as she can while she arches up into him. 

 

Her eyes are closed again but he still watches, ignoring the sweat pouring off of his forehead and down his face.  He wants to see her when she climaxes.  He wants to thrust into her so hard when he sees she’s almost there that she’ll call his name out for only his ears to hear. 

 

And he does.  Right when he sees her move her head back and her face tighten up.  The way she always does right before an orgasm.  He slams into her so hard that her head hits against the headboard and she yells out his name in ecstasy.  And when she does, he can feel himself jerking inside of her, his own release always coming as he hears her call his name.  And then he collapses against her, his sweaty body sticking to hers, as he whispers her name over and over again.

 

Britney.

 

 

 

He knows he shouldn’t have dropped everything when he got her text message to meet her at the studio.  But he did.  He can’t seem to stop it anymore.  It’s like he’s lost all of his own self discipline.  Like she is a drug that he can’t stop using.  So he left Cameron with some trivial excuse and went out in search of his fix.

 

There were no words when he found her.  Instead he just took her into his arms and maneuvered her against the studio board.  He lifted her skirt and pulled her panties down and quickly released himself from his pants.

 

And now he works into her like he’s on a mission.  Today will be quick and messy.  The way it always is when there’s a chance they might get caught.  But he knows she likes that risk.  That it turns her on so much that she can’t resist it.  And that he’s the only one she calls when she can’t.  He loves that knowledge so much that it makes his addiction to her even more intense.

 

Her hands are clawing at the board, trying to gain some balance as he pushes against her.  And he watches, feeling his own excitement grow as he sees hers.  He grabs the back of her head and pulls her mouth to his; devouring it with so much intensity that it sometimes even scares him. 

 

And then she pulls her head away and arches it back as she does the same with her torso.  He pounds into her one more time and waits for her to say his name, this time a little more quiet considering their surroundings. 

 

He waits for his body to stop convulsing and then pulls out of her and fixes his pants.  He kisses her one more time before he heads out the door and back to his girlfriend.

 

 

 

He doesn’t remember how this all started.  How he ended up spending his evenings in seedy hotels on the wrong side of town or sneaking into restaurant bathrooms during the middle of the day.  He doesn’t know how he started cheating on Cameron and how he became the other man in Britney’s life.  But as he has her up against the wall in the stall of some disgusting 24 hour grease bucket, he doesn’t really care.

 

He gave up on logic long ago.  When their once a month encounters turned into once a week and then into every few days.  There’s not truly a reasonable excuse for what their doing when there are so many other people involved.  But it still doesn’t matter to him and he can’t explain why.

 

He hears her giggle when the bathroom door creaks open and someone closes the door to a stall a few feet away but he doesn’t stop holding onto her hips and bouncing her against him.  She feels way too good when she’s against him and he won’t let some stranger ruin it.  So he moves one hand to cover her mouth and increases the speed in which he’s controlling her. 

 

She opens her eyes only briefly and then they roll back into her head as she begins her ascent.  He feels her speak into his hand and he lets her warmth overtake him before he explodes into her. 

 

When her body falls into his, he holds her there, cradling her head against his chest.  And when he hears the person down from them exit the restroom, he stands her up and helps her pull her panties and jeans back on before he does the same. 

 

He kisses her forehead and then sneaks out of the bathroom, leaving her there to wait a few minutes before she returns to her normal life. 

 

At least as normal as it can be considering she’s betraying everyone in it.

 

 

 

He’s considered the fact that he’s her boy toy.  That when she says jump, he says how high.  That he’s there at her beck and call.  He’s even thought about trying to slow it down.  To not be there every time she calls or messages him.  Trying to eventually bring an end to their affair.  If that’s what you want to call it.  But deep inside, he knows he can’t.

 

He throws his head against the back of the chair as she grinds her hips into his.  He pushed out the thoughts of how wrong it is to be fucking in Johnny’s chair in his office long ago.  It’s not like he’s here anyway and when she called and wanted to meet, he didn’t think twice about bringing her to the office of the man she fired.  She didn’t seem to care anyway.

 

He feels her pushing harder against him, using her feet as leverage as she digs her toes into the floor and molds into him.  Her eyes are closed.  Like always.  But his are still open.  He’s grown so used to watching her face that he’s found himself noting how expressionless Cameron’s is when they make love.  He’s even found himself hating her for it.

 

He leans forward, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing against her shoulder and up her neck.  He moves his hips back and forth in the chair, meeting her thrusts with fierce intensity.  Their meeting is raw and open.  Revealing.

 

He doesn’t flinch when her head falls onto his shoulder and she bites at it.  He likes the pain.  It’s appropriate.  But he wants to see her face so he grabs her hair and pulls her head back.  She too seems to relish in the pain he’s bringing and begins to move harder and faster against him. 

 

He responds by pumping into her with reckless abandon.  Now he’s lost all sense of reason.  All he feels, all he knows is her.  He watches her face.  Her jaw clenching and then falling open as she moans.  Then he watches as tears start to fall relentlessly down her cheeks.

 

Her emotion only makes his desire more intense.  And when he sees her on the brink, he slaps against her and brings her face down to his.  He feels her hot breath against him as she yells his name and then watches as she pants for breath. 

 

When her eyes open on his, he lets go.  He pulls her into his arms and crushes her against his chest.  He can’t breathe.  Or think. 

 

But he can feel.

 

 

 

They’ve moved on from seedy motels with dirty sheets to the high thread count Egyptian cotton covering her own bed.  He doesn’t know where Kevin is.  Doesn’t ask.  And he figures that her mom has Sean somewhere.  He knows she’d never let him anywhere near her house, and especially her bed, if either were nearby. 

 

He knows there’s something different about her today.  He knew it the minute her heard her voice on the phone.  And confirmed it the second she opened the door to let him in.  But he tries to put it out of his head. 

 

It’s gentle this time.  Slow and soft.  Nothing like their last encounter.  His body covers hers, one arm wrapped around her back.  His movements are methodical and perfect.  He knows she likes it.  He knows too well.  This was the way it used to be with them.  Back when he was the only man touching her. 

 

He feels her wrap her legs around his waist and she opens her mouth, her breath catching with every gentle push he gives her.  Her fingers then slip around his neck and she slowly brings him down to her, kissing him in way he’s not felt for some time.  It’s not raw or rushed.  Not filled with reckless lust or scorching pain.  It’s sweet and gentle and he loves the way it feels and tastes.

 

He watches her face in between their kisses.  Watches every emotion fill it.  Every emotion still the same, but today, somehow a little different.  But he continues to watch.  And kiss.  And glide. 

 

And as their normal few minutes of intense pleasure turns into a half hour, he finds her eyes on his.  Her chocolate brown eyes are locked onto his as he feels her begin to breathe more rapidly.  His pace increases with her breath but his thrusts are still gentle and right.  He expects her to close her eyes at any second as she nears her peak but she doesn’t.  Instead, she keeps them directly on his, like she’s reading the emotions he’s showing across his face.

 

He feels like he’s in a well.  One he can’t dig himself out of.  But that well is the depths of her eyes.  And finally, he realizes what she’s doing.  She’s showing herself to him.  Not physically.  Not even with the emotions he’s grown used to on her face.  But inside. 

 

He lays his body softly on top of hers and places his elbows above her shoulders, laying on them as he brings his face down to hers.  Their eyes closer together.  She never moves.  Letting him control the rhythm.  Control the meeting as he’s seemingly controlled all of their meetings.

 

But he’s learning at this moment, it is actually she that is in control.  She holds the key.  She holds the emotions.  She holds him.

 

And as he sees her head arch back and he knows she is getting ready to climax, she still keeps her eyes open onto his.  She pushes her body up, increasing the friction between them and then he feels her release all over him.  But she doesn’t stop.  This time, he hears her whisper his name and then she places her hands on his back, guiding him into her over and over again. 

 

Her eyes are intense as she watches him and he can feel his body weakening as she continues to whisper his name.  And as she grabs him and pushes him into her, holding him there, he releases everything pent up inside of him. 

 

He falls onto her chest and feels the tears stinging his eyes.  It’s now that everything is painfully clear to him.  He loves her.  And she loves him.  And today they did not have sex.  They made love.  More beautiful and passionate than they ever have before.

 

And he understands why he can’t let her go.  Why he can’t ever let her go.

 

Because she is his drug.  His addiction.  And losing everything else is worth getting his fix.

 

And tomorrow, he will call her.  And he will take her to his house where they will make love again. 

 

And again.

 

And again.

 

Until they’ve forgotten about the people they are supposed to be making love to.