I buzzed his doorbell just hours after his flight home had landed, feeling an almost insatiable yearning rising within me. Tom opened the door and didn’t speak.

I waited a beat, then awkwardly cut the silence.

“Hi,” I smiled nervously.

Still nothing.

“I missed you,” I found myself revealing bashfully, willing the silence to end – his hazel eyes piercing into me now with an intensity I hadn’t seen in them before.

He didn’t respond, instead hooking a muscular arm around my waist and using it to seize my body tightly into his; his other free hand smoothing underneath my sheer black tank whilst kissing me intensely.

My legs went to warm liquid, buckling as he turned me around and pushed me against the wall forcefully, so my lipstick smudged against the white wallpaper, leaving an iridescent pink arc emblazoned across it. He crouched down behind me, chasing his hands underneath my faux leather pencil skirt until they found the top band of my black lace thong and tugged it down to settle around my stiletto heels.

I closed my eyes and pressed the palms of my hands against the wall to drink it in as he slid his coarse hands back up my legs once more until his face was buried beneath my skirt and his fingers were deep inside me.

“Fuck. You’re so incredibly wet…” he panted.

I couldn’t respond.

My breath was shallow and labored now. My legs quivered, threatening to collapse beneath me as he ran his tongue up and over the curve of my buttocks and settled it in between my cheeks, hungrily dipping it down as deep as it would go into unexplored, euphoric territory. Finally my knees gave out and I dropped to the floor on all fours, my body weak with desire for him.

“Stay still,” he commanded; a sudden sternness to his voice.

“Why? What are you going to do to me?” I asked; simultaneously exhilarated and terrified.

“Just stay still, and touch yourself; here” he dictated, taking my right hand in his and placing it deep within the wet folds of flesh between my legs. I moaned involuntarily again and obliged, tracing my index finger back and forth over my clit like a student eager to please her teacher.

Tom grasped my hips tightly and slowly entered me from behind; an oddly painful pleasure surging through me as he pushed each inch further.

“Wait. I haven’t done this before…” I protested, my voice trailing off into a breathy whisper as I felt him disappear deeper inside me; the strange euphoria keeping me from reaching back and stopping him.

“Do you want to be good for me?” he responded, in a tone reminiscent of an exasperated parent chastising a child.

I did. More than ever.

“Just keep touching yourself like I told you,” he added; an unmistakable note of authority in his voice.

I obliged and felt him engulf me from behind, heightening every sensation so the fine hairs on my arms danced like flags in the wind, my face twitched, and the warm folds between my fingers ached a sharp, intense ache.

“Good girl. You know where I have my cock right now? You like that, don’t you?” he asked, a smugness in his voice as he slid one hand from my hips and into the wet ache pulsating between my legs.

My body convulsed in response; climaxing so intensely my hand slid out from under me, sending my face crashing into the floor.

Tom gently grabbed a chunk of hair on the back of my head and pulled me back up by it.

“Don’t stop,” he instructed.

I willed myself to stay up on all fours, but my limbs felt like precarious card towers, threatening collapse at any second. I turned my head back to look at him. His face was intense, his eyes still and fixed on the smudged wallpaper in front of us as he methodically thrusted into me; one hand still clasping at my hair.

I was eager to play along now.

“Is that what you want?” I asked, my voice raising up several octaves to a schoolgirlish pitch.

Tom’s eyes met mine, his pupils suddenly bursting open like black umbrellas in the rain, a smile spreading across his face.

“I’ll show you what I want. Turn over,” he demanded.

I flipped onto my back obediently and twisted my legs around his muscular buttocks as he plunged himself inside me; his strong body suddenly going limp as he groaned in release before rolling off of me and gently pulling me in to his muscular chest.

We laid there in silence, neither one of us feeling the need to fill it, before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning we strolled lazily along the beachfront stores by his house until we found a cafe and settled there, eating hash browns and fried tomatoes between sporadic exchanges of pleasantries. Somehow the table between us felt like a chasm again, taking me back to that fumbled first date encounter.

Our physical exchanges were so charged, but it was as if, in the moments between them, we couldn’t connect at all.

And so, as the waves crashed on the beach behind us, we finished our coffees silently, and bid each other farewell.

Tom and I saw each other a few more times after that; eventually reserving our catch-ups exclusively for the bedroom, where I let him unleash his darkest fantasies, and found myself being taken to new heights of pleasure I hadn’t known existed as I let him do things to me I’d expected myself to abhor. Then, just like that, our dalliances would end and we’d return to moments of awkward silence that grew louder each time they occurred, until they turned into time and space, and we gradually drifted apart.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Tom now, but I still think of him every so often. Usually when I’m alone in bed at night, and my hands find their way under my pyjamas. And every time I do, I bite down on my lip until it pierces the soft flesh inside my mouth so that it bleeds, ever so slightly.

It hurts. But the way I like it.

Last part!