I am happy.

Or at least, that's what I tell everyone… And even though I don't want to admit it, it's what I tell myself too.

And then, it happens: it was stupid; it was a mistake, once in a lifetime… Another "once in a lifetime".

We meet after a long time of nonexistent contact and we just can't stay apart. We are toxic together. And yet we work.

We talk about nothing and everything, like we always did. We kiss. And all those feelings you haven't thought about since you were 15 resurface. There were drinks, and more drinks… We settled on the couch watching some meaningless TV series pressed together, always touching. Time flies between innocent caresses and gentle kisses. The tension starts to build while the alcohol starts to live our bodies. This time we can't even blame it on being drunk.
I can't control myself and launch in his arms. He catches me and looks in my eyes smiling "Let me look at you while I can, I want to remember this, you in my arms".

Afterwards there was a kiss. Started gentle but soon we became desperate, clawing each other's clothes of. I heard him sigh when my bra was on the floor and in the blink of an eye I was in his arms surrounded by heat.

" I don't want to have fun with you, I want to be with you" he said while massaging my breast and pinching my nipple.

God! I can remember not being able to move after he entered me, being overwhelmed with happiness and pleasure. He eased in and out never taking his eyes of mine. The air filled with electricity, my body reacting automatically to his every touch.
He started to go faster and harder kissing my neck, reaching with his hand to roll my clit with his fingers. In a quick move he rolled us so I was on top and the motion set me off. I came harder than ever.

"Can you stay inside me forever?"

"Best thing you ever asked of me"

We worked together until he came taking me with him once more. In a moment we were gentle kissing, in the other he fell asleep beside me bringing me closer to his chest., not giving me the option to leave.
Still, in the morning I had to leave. A goodbye kiss and I was on my way home.

I remember his taste… His hands and how I wanted them to leave marcs in my body. To grab me and pull me against him.

I remember his scent all around me, his hot breath on my neck, his heart beat calm and how it picked up speed every time we touched.

And I can still feel his hands caressing my legs closer and closer where I want them the most.

And just thinking about it, the need to be touched, to be brought to the edge. To reach my peak… to feel his skin against my own is too intense.

But we see each other a couple times a year… And I'm always nervous thinking that kiss was our last. It's hard to be rational, because I'm so comfortable with him it seems time's fly and an hour feels like a minute.

And I want to say the best part is the sex, but it's not. Not anymore, not ever. Not after him. After mind blowing sex he whispered in my ear "This is the best part, holding you in my arms". He's right. He hugs me and he leaves his scent in my skin and I like to imagine that he's scenting me so everyone knows I'm his. And when his arms leave me I'm cold. I'm cold every time now.

I try not to think about him. I think about trying not to think about him.

In the end? Leaving his bed was awful. That bed where I met a different kind of pleasure, the bed he carried me to, the bed I would gladly live my whole life. Taking a shower was never hard until the thought of taking his scent of me occurred.

And a day not thinking about him is torture now. Life before was easier, but I can't regret the hours when I truly felt happy for the first time since the last we were together