How long till I don't feelBen decided to stay home today, one day alone after everyone else returns to the weird subnormal house routines and work schedules we are ruled by. I move to get up and make coffee but he reaches out, wrapping one hand around my thigh, pulling back until I have no choice but to fall back into bed.
Like you're still right here
Reminding me of what is real?
Hungry, I protest.
Me too, he says as he climbs over me, pushing my knees apart, pinning me down by the throat with one hand while the other smooths my hair back from my forehead. His eyes meet mine. I can see how hungry he is for myself. The one place I always love to be is right between Ben and his uncontrollable appetite. Only I can't breathe so I pull at his wrist until he releases my neck and wraps his arm around my shoulders instead, lifting me up until I am caught full against him.
Them he brings his full weight down on me. Yes. Yes. Yes. This.
We are climbing together, I don't know where but I just know it's a good place and I never ever want to leave. His teeth gnash against my ear and it hurts. I can hear his ragged breathing, hot against my skin, held when his hands become slick with sweat, sliding down my ribs instead of holding me. It's an exquisite agony and he keeps me there long past any remembrance of food or morning or obligations. Just when I think I can't take any more the waves of euphoria drown me. Just when I think I can no longer move Ben changes one little thing, renewing our collective energies. I can't get enough of him. I reach up to run my fingers through his hair. It's so soft, black glossy waves so thick my fingers get lost and he takes my hand down, kissing the palm, smiling.
Abruptly he pulls us up and turns, leaning back against the pillows, pulling my thighs up over his until I have him straddled. He is now my prisoner but I am not in control as he lifts my hips away and back, over and over until I beg him to stop and then he covers my mouth, pulling me back down, turning over and then once again I don't get to breathe as he starts anew.
I am face down now, nose pressed against the blanket, out of strength. Ben is just getting started and so I brace myself, balling the sheets up in my little fists as if that will help or something.
It doesn't.
Somewhere around lunchtime he asks if I am still hungry.
Yes, I croak weakly and he laughs. Starving.
I'm going to go and make us something. He turns me over as he gets up. He pulls on a t-shirt from last night and his pajama pants from the laundry I never put away yesterday. He turns back at the door and orders,
Don't you go anywhere, little bee. I'm not done with you yet.
I grin. I have no plans. None that involve clothes anyway.