Post-Coital

“All right, you got me,” she said

He withdrew and hovered above her.

“I did?”

“Oh yeah, you got me.”

He rolled to her side and lay on his back. His eyes turned and watched her brown breasts push up and come down push up and come push and come.

“How was it?”

“Good, very good,” she said.

He turned his head and studied her. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was parted. A red tongue darted out and wet her lips. Under her head her hair overlaid a white pillow except for one strand of ebony that hung from her forehead hooking her chin. It barely covered her blushing cheeks. He lifted his head and leaned over her naked body. She opened her eyes momentarily then closed them once more.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said.

He read the clock beside her. Its red numerals were 12:01. He bent down and kissed her lips. They were cool and chilled him. He rubbed his tongue against hers but warmth did not come. He pulled himself from her but still leaned upon her, their breasts pressed together. He marked her breaths and created a rhythm, interposed in the offbeat of her respiration. Each breathed after another, either giving in or pushing out. She giggled.

“Stop breathing for me.”

“Whatever are you speaking of, dear?”

She opened her eyes again and smiled as he watched her. Her face was round. A pair of dark eyes formed a triangle with her sharp nose. Underneath, a smile stretched back her upper lip revealing a row of small white teeth. Dimples now pocked the corners of her smiling mouth and a single hair from the strand that hooked her chin rested on her lower lip. He took his free hand, and touching her cheek, brushed it behind her ear.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“What are you thinking?”

“Nothing at all,” he said.

“Liar,” she whispered.

He bent down and kissed her. She was warmer. She had become warm without him. He chuckled. She pushed him back.

“What?”

“Nothing, I said.”

“It’s something.”

“I was thinking only of your beauty.”

“So you laughed.”

“What? You make me so happy I laugh.”

“Uh huh.”

“What?”

“You suck.”

“Not as well as you.”

She pinched his arm and he fell back beside her. She turned onto her side and stared at him.

“Stop staring.”

“Bastard.”

“I love you.”

“I wonder.”

The wind began to whistle through the closed window. He raised his head and looked at its veil. Upon the glass were soft taps. He leaned over her again. The time was 12:49. He looked back at her. She shifted her gaze from his face to the window.

He lay beside her on his side. He put his free hand on her stomach and rubbed the palm around her navel. He bent down and kissed it. He laid his head upon her stomach and looked at her. She smiled as she watched him. His hand drew through her parted breasts.

“Pitter patter,” he said as his fingers tapped her chest. “Pitter patter patter patter.”

She giggled. The rain came harder. He lifted his head from her stomach and drew a line down her body to her navel with his thumb. He stood his hand on its fingers and began to circle her navel. Thunder shook the building.

“Pitter patter.”