John hummed in approval. ‘Admiring a work of art.You’ve probably heard it a million times but you are a beautiful woman.’ He noticed how the back of her neck flushed and wondered if it reached the front. He caught another delicious whiff of her and stepped back, the creases in his palms regretting the departure. John took a seat on the edge of her bed and waited. Samantha stood still for another moment before fishing into her large closet for a shirt and sweater. She made her way to her make-up table and began to touch-up her face. John sat and watched her during her feminine ritual. ‘Wait,’ he called out as she reached for a slender bottle of perfume. ‘There’s no need for that. I like the way you smell.’ He saw her eyebrow arch in intrigue in the mirror before she set the bottle down. ‘You’re a very peculiar man sometimes, John,’ she said as she turned around. ‘I like to keep you guessing,’ he answered. ‘Keeps you interested in me.’ ‘Oh, I find you interesting enough.’ John stood up. Finally, it subsided, and my whole body went limp, my hand slipping out to leave a sticky trail over his skin. Even my thank you kiss was weak. We lay together for a while, Danny still hard inside me, until he carefully withdrew, a thick stream of warm stickiness coming with him to run down between my cheeks to the carpet beneath. His member flopped down in the pool of semen next to mine, our seed mingling. When the afterglow of orgasm wore off, we both sat up, and I went to the bathroom to fetch a towel so we could clean up.An awkward silence fell until I suggested we rewind Fight Club to where we were last paying attention. He agreed, fetched a couple more beers, and we settled down as we had been before – only naked – to watch the rest of the film.I finished my beer fast and then lay down with my head on his lap, or rather, as he slouched down, on the base of his stomach. The smell of his sweaty and cummy balls so close to my nostrils, combined with Brad Pitt on the screen, began.
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