September 11, 2022

Had she forgotten to adjust the thermostat? The temperature appears to be rising a dozen degrees every minute. How does she look? Smoothing a hand through her hair, Nat pauses. What the hell does it matter how she looks? Tonight would be her lucky night even if she wore a gooey green face mask. Then again, she and Harry had just done the nasty two nights ago. Should she really be this horny?

The sound of Harry spitting his toothpaste in the sink and rinsing it out makes her legs quiver and her labia contract. When he arrives at the door, he uses his forearm to lean against the doorjamb.

"My teeth are clean," he grins, waggling his eyebrows. As quickly as a jackrabbit frightened by a dog, Harry's expression shifts. The grin transforms into a smirk, and the green in his eyes darkens. Pure Predator. "Um...I'm gonna need you to unbutton that shirt very, very slowly. Like excruciatingly slow."

"This shirt?" she teases, her fingers brushing the fabric lightly as her head tilts down and her eyes angle upwards to connect with his. The tip of his tongue darts out and moistens his lips before retreating. Fuck. How she loves the taste of his tongue -- especially just after they've both brushed their teeth. While it should be pure minty-fresh, it seems his flavor is enhanced rather than buried by the toothpaste.

"Mhm," he murmurs, taking a full step into the room and silently closing the door behind him. Engaging the lock, he shifts all of his weight backwards so that his shoulders are resting on the door, his pelvis angled towards her. Nataley knows this familiar game, recalling how taking their time enhances the erotic experience. The other night, they'd both been -- 'desperate' might be the right word -- and neither had slowed down. They had consumed each other, flames engulfing a deserted barn with a single lit match.

With her thumb and index finger, Nat slides the next button carefully loose before settling both hands in her lap and returning her eyes to Harry. A sloth shifting positions, Harry twists the button on his trousers, arms resting at his side upon completion. Recognizing the signal that it's her turn, she pops the next button down. Only this time, she parts the fabric just enough to reveal the swell of her breasts.

"Fuck, Nat." Harry whispers the words.

"Going caveman on me, H?" Her raised eyebrow is meant to convey the supreme lust that makes her quiver.

"Nat?" He asks, hand on his zipper.

"Yeah, H?"

"Me caveman. You my woman," Harry grunts, pointing to her. With those words, he slowly lowers the fastener. The grating sound of each individual zipper tooth as it slides down is loud in the small bedroom, and Nataley gasps because his hand traces the length of his penis on its way back to his hip.

"Payback is a bitch." She feels the need for a reminder, worried that he's taken the lead in this competition.

"Mhm, and talk is cheap." Harry uses his head to gesture in the general vicinity of her shirt, and she bites her lip.

Instead of widening the gap after she releases the next button, Nataley cups her breasts and pinches her nipples. The strangled utterings from Harry bring a smile to her face. Allowing her fingers to trail over her chest and land in her lap, Nat indicates that her turn has ended.

Shucking his trousers over his hips and down his legs, Harry carefully steps out of them and kicks them to the side. Oh shit. He's glorious. Through his briefs she views the shape of him, and the resulting moisture that pools between her legs promises she'll be ready when they get to that point. Once more he leans backwards against the door, hips thrust forward.

It was already 90°F in the bedroom before Harry's seductive move, but Nataley resists her desire to fan herself. That would be a costly mistake. She knows how to up the ante, though. Once she's finished the remaining buttons, she peels back the sides of her shirt, resting her hands on the bed behind her which places her cleavage on display. Although she hadn't removed her clothing, she had chosen to replace her everyday bra with a different one.

Harry stands up straight, his tongue out. "Lace? Transparent lace? Oh fuck me. Someone isn't playing fair."

"Fair?" she asks, attempting and hopefully pulling off a cheeky look of innocence. "Are there rules?"

"Nataley..." Harry groans. "Let me have a taste."

Her head moves side to side at the consistent pace of a metronome. "Your turn, H." There's no way he can beat her this time, and she feels her confidence flare. Will he go for the shirt and suck in his stomach in a vain attempt to make abs appear? Or will he drop the briefs and strut his stuff?

When he reaches for the hem of his shirt, she allows a smile to play at the corners of her mouth. This is evidence that he's conceding to her. But she's claimed victory too soon as he reveals actual abs when the shirt is removed.

"Where the hell did those come from?" Her voice might best be described as a soft shriek, all too aware that her son is sleeping in the next room.

With a grin that reaches all the way to his eyes, Harry shrugs. Nataley drinks in the sight. Hands on his hips, he watches her carefully.

"You didn't have those the other night!" Nataley accuses.

Laughter bursts from him. "Actually, I did. You just weren't paying attention to my chest." He uses both hands to outline his torso. "Drink it in, love. That's what working out regularly can do for you."

But her breath has been stolen, and she can't comprehend his spoken words. "What -- is -- that?" Sitting up on her knees, she points to a spot on his chest just to the left of the butterfly's antenna. Heedless of the fact that she's supposed to stay in place, she crawls towards him on the bed, not consciously baiting him, but rather genuinely curious.

Harry crosses his arms, hiding the marking. "Nope. Your turn, Nat."

Fuck. Defeat snatched from the jaws of victory. "Was that --" she points towards his chest, waving her hand in a circle -- a new tattoo?"

"Your turn, Nat," he reminds her.

"Would that happen to be a tattoo about me?" Her words are barely audible, and Harry simply smiles.

"Your turn," he repeats.

"Fuck me." The exclamation escapes from her lips with her next outbreath. The number of times she had asked him to get a tattoo for her when they were together -- something to make their relationship more permanent -- and he'd always said no. NOW he decided to get one? Two and a half years after they ended?

"I plan to," he smirks. "Now your turn."

Still kneeling on the bed, Nat doubles down. The decision isn't in. She could still win this one. Unbuttoning her jeans, she draws the zipper downwards before sliding her hand in the space created and rubbing her fingers on her pussy. Harry's eyes zero in on her digits as she draws them to her mouth and sucks off her juices.

"Oh," he croaks.

"Yum," she moans, throwing her head back and relishing his reaction. Maybe all wasn't yet lost?

But when Harry removes his arms from across his chest, she vows to focus on that tattoo to see what he added to his body art. He doesn't give her time to fully examine the ink, though, as the movement of his hands to his waistband capture her full attention. Sliding his thumbs under the top, he fans out his other fingers and skims his thumbs back and forth on his waist before folding the briefs down a mere inch to reveal the base of his penis, and she notices he has done some manscaping since Friday night. Hmmm...wonder when he found time to do that?

Continuing his glacial strip tease, Harry folds the waistband down another inch, and Nataley notices her breathing has shifted, quickened. On her knees, she leans her head closer, ready to lick a pathway from bottom to top once he releases the Beast™️ (their jointly appointed nickname). But when Harry twists the waistband the rest of the way, settling them at the top of his thighs, he uses his precum to stroke himself. Nat can't seem to draw air into her lungs. The tattoo forgotten, she attempts to swallow only to find her mouth dry.

As she glances at his face, the triumphant smile there causes her to straighten her back. Oh, no. He thinks he's won with that move? Not a chance. Pulling herself back together, Nataley rises from the bed, standing with her legs shoulder width apart directly in front of Harry. "Alexa, play 'Strip it Down' by Luke Bryan."

Once the music begins, she closes her eyes and sways side to side. When the chorus starts, she removes both her jeans and her panties and steps out of them, leaving the clothing where it lies as she undulates her naked body, feeling the music and the moment, paying zero attention to Harry. Allowing her hands to roam over her body, she reminds herself how his hands feel on her skin, pretending her fingers are Harry's.

"My fingers want to pitter patter on your skin," his voice registers, but she refuses to become fully aware of where she is and what she's doing. Her hands continue to trace her curves, removing her lacy bra as her head bobs in time with the music. The words to this one -- they fit so well for these circumstances.

We both know that we lost it somehow. Let's get it found. Strip it down. Down. Down.

As Luke Bryan's voice fades into Billy Currington's 'Must be Doing Something Right', she feels Harry's hands on her hips as he steps to her, swaying to the music. Without opening her eyes, she allows her fingers to glide up his arm until they mingle in the hairs at the back of his neck at his collar. Sighing, she places her head on his chest.

"I'm open to suggestions," Harry croons along with the country musician. "Tonight's about giving you what you want, whatever it takes."

Nataley's insides quiver and liquify at his voice singing those words to her. Like the cheese on a tuna melt, she dissolves into him.

Drifting around her waist, his hand pulls her closer until their bellies are touching, and Nataley is now confident of only one thing: she needs this man inside her. Now. Tears pool at the corners of her eyes as she considers how much she wishes they could make this work permanently. Blinking the moisture away, she two-steps backwards to the bed, delicately sitting on the edge of the mattress.

"Harry," she breathes, her hair brushing the top of her trapezius muscles as she gazes up at him. "You win. Take me."

Expecting his grin of victory, she's taken aback when he wraps his hands so that his thumbs can caress her cheeks while his fingers tangle in her hair. "I think we both win. And lose," he whispers just as his lips descend to hers and 'Alone with You' by Jake Owen begins playing.

Like the wind grazing the tops of corn stalks just before harvest, his lips prance across hers, and she sighs. Her lips fall open as his tongue darts in time with the music. Sliding her hands behind her, she rises and shifts her body backwards, enticing Harry to follow. Placing a knee on the bed between her thighs, he complies as she gracefully fades into the bedsheets, spreading her legs further apart as he accompanies her. Settling between her thighs, he breaks their seal, trailing kisses down her jawline and onto her neck as she moans.

"Fuck, Harry. You always set me on fire."

I melt every time you look at me. It never fails. Any time, any place. This burn in me is the coolest thing I've ever felt. I melt.

Rascal Flatts has taken over the playlist, and Nataley softens under Harry's gaze as he pulls back and watches her with hooded eyes.

"Are we doing the right thing, Nat?" he wonders, his eyes boring into hers. "For you? For me? For Noah?"

Her tongue swoops out to moisten her dry lips. "No. Of course we aren't. And yet if you aren't inside me in the next 30 seconds, I won't be able to survive the night." She swallows as she makes eye contact that disintegrates all of her doubts. "Please, Harry. I've missed you so much."

Smushing his mouth to hers, Harry guides himself inside her, shifting his weight and pausing as they both catch their breath.

"You're so wet," he whispers.

"Only for you, H. You're the only person who makes me this desperate. Ever." Nataley turns her hip slightly, seating him deeper as she flexes her inner muscles around his length.

"Shit, Nat. I love you beyond all measure." Withdrawing slightly, he thrusts shallowly a few times as her legs wrap around his bum and attempt to draw him further inside. "No. Stop, love. I know what I'm doing."

"But..." Nataley attempts to speak.

"Nope. I won."

She knows he's right. Those are the rules. The winner gets to make the decisions. But oh, fuck, how Nat wishes he would fill her up. Make her whole.

It's like Alexa knows what's happening as she begins playing 'You're My Better Half' by Keith Urban. The pace is so much faster than what they've been listening to, and Harry matches the tempo.

"Oh shit. That feels...oh my god, Harry...a little to the left...yes...yes...YESSSSSS!" Nataley calls as Harry drives fully into her at last.

Eventually, he shifts one of her legs so that her knee is wrapped around his elbow and he thrusts into her at the speed and depth she prefers. She can barely catch her breath as she feels her orgasm approaching.

"Fuck, love. You feel so good on my cock...like we've never been apart, and yet..." his grunts and groans convey the rest of his sentiment. "I'm gonna..." he starts.

"Me too," she cries out. Reaching for her clit, she traces her fingers over it rapidly, knowing that she wants to explode along with Harry. It's always best when they..."OH MY GOOOOOOOOOODDDDD!" she cries just as Kip Moore is singing 'Crazy One More Time'.

As usual, she's lost in the conundrum that is Harry. His voice melds with hers and she sees the moon, the stars, the heavens. No one makes her come as hard as Harry. There's never a time that he doesn't fulfill her. No faking with him. Every piece of her is glued together in that moment as though all is right with the world, and she ignores the feeling -- pushes it aside because she knows better. Still, the momentary contentment is real.

Sighing as she finishes convulsing around him, Nataley is fulfilled as Harry slides to the side and pulls her close to his chest, his arm wrapped around her.

"That arm is going to fall asleep tonight," she warns.

"Don't care," Harry mumbles. "I love holding you."

"Me too," Nataley's voice lowers as she hears his breathing even out as he drifts into a dream so captivating that she can feel it sucking her into its web. But first, she uses the light on the nightstand to examine the new tattoo.

Her breath catches as she sees it in its tiny glory. It's a miniature fir tree with a heart at the very top. Shit. He really had done it. After all this time, he inked a tattoo that represents her. Gently, she kisses the ink before leaning over and flipping out the light. Before she drifts off, she pulls the sheet over her and Harry, his arm tightening around her when she gently relaxes into him.