He had already left to go to the airport and I had no clients until this after-noon, so I decided to treat myself to a lazy morning.
I made some toast and had breakfast in bed.
I took a bite and thought about last night.
We finished off two bottles of wine and I was unbuttoning my pants.
Steve stopped me and started to do it himself.
He leaned over close to me. I could smell the wine on his breath. It was turning me on.
"Greg?" he whispered.
"Hmm?" I mewed.
"I want to be you tonight."
Then for the first time he kissed me.
His tongue went inside my mouth and I felt, corny as it sounds, a little flutter in my stomach.
He clinched me with ferocity and heat, that I could do nothing but give in to him.
He tore open my t-shirt and started kissing my neck.
"Tell me what to do." I asked.
We pulled off our clothes and scrambled for the bed.
Steve did all the things I'd been wanting him to do and then some.
He had me crying out in pleasure.
He kept me on the edge.
I felt myself getting ready and he would slow down, or do something else that, in a few minutes would send me right back to the edge.
Steve let out a groan of pain mixed with pleasure as I leaned in behind him.
Our bodies moved.
I looked at his face.
Tears were streaming down his cheeks.
I stopped.
"Am I hurting you?"
"Love me," cried Steve. "Love me."
I started back up. "I will."
"Always?"
"Yes."
"Promise?"
"Yes."
We continued, crossing the edge as he screamed and dug his free hand into my back-- biting my arm.
Upon returning to the guest house, I heard someone talking on my answering machine.
"Gregory?" It was my mother, her voice thick with vodka. "The end times are at hand. I saw Satan knocking at your door. I hope you didn't let him in."
Then she began to cry. "Happy birthday baby. Your mother misses you so much. Please call me after you hear this. I need you. Mommy needs her little man."
I picked up the phone.
