She leans into me, forcing me to move backwards, never breaking the kiss or slowing down the frantic movement of her hands through my hair, down my face, over my chest and into the waistband of my boxers. As I hobble and limp backwards without the help of crutches or my brace, I forget all about the ache in my knee when her small hand wraps around my dick. I let out a groan as the backs of my legs hit the couch, her hand sliding up and down my length in a tight fist.

“Take it. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Whatever you need, it’s YOURS,” I mutter as her hand moves faster.

“I just want to forget. For tonight, just make me forget,” she tells me softly before she takes her hand off of my dick and gently pushes against my chest until I flop down onto the couch.

Everything about this is wrong and I know I should stop her. This is not at all how I imagined making love to her again and I’m sure she’ll hate herself and regret every minute of this tomorrow. The very last thing I need to do is give her even more reason to hate ME, but my good intentions fly right out of the window when she drops the towel from her body and straddles my lap. I want to take my time with her, to drink in the sight of her gorgeous, naked body after so long without it. I want to slide my hands over every inch of her and revel in the feel of her smooth skin. Recalling the nights I spent alone, lying on the damp floor of a Dominican rainforest craving her taste, I want nothing more than to bury my face between her thighs and savor her. I try to slow her movements, but she’s not having any of that. She wants this to be about forgetting, plain and simple. I can’t change the past and I can’t make things right, but I can give her this.

Her fingers slide into the elastic of my boxers and I lift my hips, helping her move them down and over my cock, which is standing at attention, ready for her to do whatever she wants. They don’t make it any further than mid-thigh before she notches the head of my cock right at her opening, sinking down hard and fast until I’m buried so deep inside of her I’m pretty sure I’m seeing fucking stars. She’s so tight and hot around me that I curse my hand for being such a poor fucking imitation of her pussy over the last year as I jerked myself off thinking about her.

I grab onto her hips, the half of me that wants to hold her in place so I don’t blow my damn load too soon battling the half that wants to bounce her up and down on top of me so hard we both pass out. Sensing my hesitation, Olivia takes the lead, moving somewhere in the middle, sliding up and down my cock and grinding her pelvis into mine on each down stroke.

Her nails dig into my shoulders and she throws her head back with a moan. Leaning forward, I press my lips against her throat, sucking and nipping at her skin while I thrust my hips up, slamming my cock into her, over and over.

She slides her hands through my hair, fisting large chunks of it as her elbows dig into my chest. I gaze up at the beautiful woman riding me, moaning and whimpering each time she impales herself on me, writhing as her clit rubs against my skin on each down stroke. I want this to last for more than five minutes, but an entire year without sex coupled with the show Olivia’s putting on above me has my orgasm barreling through my body like a fucking freight train. My balls tighten and my cock gets impossibly hard as I run baseball stats in my head, trying to slow this fucker down.

Realizing I’m fighting a losing battle, I take one hand off of her hip and move my fingers between us, circling my thumb around her clit, determined to take her with me when I fall over the edge. She starts moving faster and moaning louder and I add more pressure with my thumb and thrust my hips harder, pushing as deep inside of her as I can get. I want to scream in frustration that this might be my one and only chance to have her and it’s going to be over before it’s even begun.

I will never, ever get tired of the way Olivia sounds as her pussy clamps down on my cock, the way her skin flushes as she throws her head back, flinging that fucking beautiful hair behind her. There’s no sight or sound more perfect in the world than this woman when she comes. She shouts my name as her body clenches around me, triggering my own release. I come so hard that I feel it from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. She continues to grind on top of me, prolonging what’s already the longest orgasm I’ve ever had, until I collapse against the back of the couch. Her body moves with me, slumping against my chest with her cheek pressed against mine while we catch our breath. She shifts her hips and I wince as my dick pulses inside of her. When she starts to move away, I wrap my arms around her body to keep her exactly where she is, afraid to let her go. I’m not ready for awkward apologies, eye avoidance and the inevitable walk of shame.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t resist. She melts into me, her thighs loosening their death grip and her hands releasing their hold on my hair until they’re lazily sliding through it, over and over.

I hope this worked. I hope fucking on our old couch chased away her nightmares, even if for just one night. I hope she knows I will chase away all of her demons, for the rest of her life, if only she’d let me.

THE SOUNDS OF waves crashing against the shore and seagulls flying overhead bring a smile to my face as I walk along the sand. The sun is setting just over the horizon and the tide comes in closer, washing over my feet. The water is warm and I walk further into the surf, pulling my skirt up to my thighs to keep it from getting wet as the waves splash against my knees. I stop walking and glance up and down the beach, wondering why I’m the only one out here. Even though the sun is going down, there should still be people lying on towels, soaking up the last of the rays of the sun, daredevils out on surfboards trying to catch that perfect wave or teenagers lighting beach bonfires, enjoying their final days of freedom before school starts up again.