Help me; tear down my reason.
Help me; it's your sex I can smell.
Help me; you make me perfect.
Help me become somebody else.

We sat there in silence, allowing the trembles to subside and the chill bumps to disappear. Our labored breathing evened out into a rhythmic and synchronized rise and fall. My chest brushed his chest as our lungs expanded, filling our bodies with a breath of air. 

Air scented with the smell of sex. A mixture of heat, sweat, and love. A mixture that would make anybody else but us two cringe. It was a mixture of raw passion, raw emotion, and raw feeling. 

I could not stop my fingers from trailing a path up and down his back, caressing defined and sculpted muscles. I follow a path up over his shoulders, down his biceps, across his forearms, and intertwine with his fingers resting on my lower back. Bringing his arms around and over his arm, his face lifts from my shoulder. His eyes lock on mine, and my breath catches in my throat. 

There is a sensibility and vulnerability in them that I have never seen in any other pair. My heart breaks, and I feel a tug in the pit of my stomach. I swallow back a sob, and I blink away tears threatening to spill. I bring my trembling lips to his slightly parted lips, and I place a gently peck there. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up” I whisper against his lips. Silence has overpowered his entire being, so I get a mere nod in response. I pray for my legs to hold me up as I stand, and pull him up with me. Slowly, and wobbly on my heels, I make my way up the stairs. His arm reaches around me and points out to a door at the end of the hallway on the right hand side. I make my way to the door, and pause. 

His body presses up behind me, and dare I say that I do not feel him as aroused as before. His arm wraps around my bare waist, and his lips caress my bare shoulder. My breath hitches slightly as I wrap my hand around the doorknob. Pushing the door open, I pull him in behind me. 

Turning on the light above, a grand yet simple bathroom greets us. A glass-door shower stands in one corner, and an expansive tub sits in the other corner. Pushing him to sit on a stool, I walk over to the tub to run the water. Looking under the sink, I find some foaming vanilla honey bath soap. Preparing the tub, I kept glancing over to him – silence. 

I pulled him over to me and helped him climb into the tub. Carefully, I slid in after him and gently placed myself on his lap. His hands gripped my hips, and I knew then that he was still with me. 

“Are you ok?” I dared to speak as I cupped some water and lapped it over his shoulders. Steadily, he moved his eyes upward to my own. A simply jerk of his head answered my question. A sigh escaped my lips. What was happening? Why was he quiet? What should I do? 

I did the only thing I knew to do – the same thing I’d want him to do if he were I. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and I held him close to my bosom. My fingers ran through his hair, and my lips decorated his face, neck, and shoulders with soft kisses. Taking a wash cloth from beside the tub, I dip it into the sudsy water. 

Taking my time, I began to wash away at his shoulders, arms, and chest. I pull him away from the tub wall and lightly scrub at his back. His face relaxes between my shoulder and my neck. I feel his hands begin to move from my hips to the back of my thighs. 

“Oh” escapes my lips. His swiftness has me lifted over him and his hardness has me filled. I should be used to him by now, but yet, my body manages to tighten around him. He’s a tight fit, but a delicious fit nevertheless. Taking a second to clear my head, I rest my forehead on his collarbone. 

“Move, please” his strangled command filled my ears. His hands tugged at my waist, and my body responded. Holding onto the edge of the tub, my hips began a slow, torturous rotation. Forward, backward, and all around. 

One arm wrapped around my waist, arching my back towards him. Another arm led his calloused fingers to run through my hair, down my neck, over my dripping breasts, and ultimately down to my soaked bud. His hand fanned over my lower abdomen, his thumb finding its way between my lips. His thumb’s movement mimicked my hips’ movements. 

Tiny prickling sensations became to overcome my body. My head lulled backwards from where it rested against his shoulder. I felt water begin to wet my hair, and I peeked to see him focusing on pouring water through my hair. The temperature of the water, the heat from our bodies, the slickness of the water, and the passion in our blood was quickly becoming too much. 

There were no words spoken. Soft sighs, low moans, and deep groans echoed off the marble floors and granite countertops. Steadily, our breathing became frenzied and short. Our moans became lower and deeper. Our groans became harsher. The water began to thrash violently around our frenzied bodies. My body began bouncing and grinding harder, trying to closer to him. His fingers dug deeper into my hips, my thighs, my back – anywhere. 

“Oh…oh…damn…oh…fuck…” I heard my tortured whispers loud as a freight train. I could hear him hiss every time I slammed my body down onto his dick. Sitting up, I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and shoulders once more and I held on. His mouth latched onto my sensitive nipples. The feeling of his tongue bathing my breasts with such tenderness yet passion sent my body over the edge. 

I felt my body begin to jerk violently and his arms wrapped tightly around me. My head was thrown backwards, and his teeth bit at my throat as I felt his warmth engulf me. I heard a scream crash against the walls, and I didn’t realize it’d been me. 

My hips continued to jerk against him, and in turn his pelvis and thumb dug deeper against my clit. I felt his ragged breath against my throat and neck, and I felt his finger trembled as they danced across my back. Swinging my head back up, I laid a warm cheek against the top of his head. 

The water began to cool, and our bodies began to chill. Our skin began to prune, and our breathing began to regulate. The trembling hands had disappeared. The shaky legs felt strong again. I dared to pull away him face away from his hiding spot – between my neck and shoulders. 

I could feel him soften, still in me. My eyes studied his every feature, learning his every flaw and honoring his every beauty. Every contour of his body, I’ve come to learn. Every string of his heart, I’ve learned to play. I may not understand him, but I get him. I get his need, and he gets my need. I do not fear him. I crave him. 

He’s made me feel alive again, and how I wish I could thank him for a lifetime. 

“You make me wish I were someone else…” I spoke softly before placing a caring kiss on his temple.