EVERYONE DESERVES VICTORY SEX – New Rules Novel | New Rules Novel

Emma - CHAPTER 60


I felt the light sweat on his arms as the moved around me, sticky like the morning dew that would cover my roof at the start of fall, before winter set in. The sky was that smoky grey, threating light.

I move my underwear to the side, he gets close, circles around and I guide him. The awkward anticipation of these first strokes reminded me that sex was something that could take you over, reduce you to clumsy slave.

His sound of urgency in my ear, I wondered how I sound`ed in his. He moved cautiously and then realigned, the rhythm was starting to flow now. I roll into it, giving him the go ahead to push harder.

My trivial concerns seemed further and further away, each breath brings me more into the moment, shedding the subtitles and judgments, becoming shorter as I seemed to be melting into the wall. The pressure of his clammy hand on my neck, locking me in position, my job was to do my thing to keep this going, to balance on my toes and to open my hip as he held the weight of my other leg. Faster now, the premise was quick and dirty, no need to prolong it in search of something deeper. It was a straight shot, a sprint to the end.

Thoughts snuck up and peppered me all at the same time:

What was that sound? Was someone coming?

Would Michael find out about this?

Did my breath smell awful?

Would I tell Viv? – Of course I’d tell Viv.

Why did this skanky event feel like the most romantic thing that had happened to me in a long time?

Romance. Irrelevant. But maybe not. There was a beautiful angle to this, the easy option was to condemn it into sluttery but anything that made you feel this alive must be given credit, besides, it’s all how you chose painted it. Bright colors could always be mashed together to create a dull mess.

I never acknowledged it, but this was me. I did this. Mason was hot, I’d never really indulged it before, but tonight I had decided I would take some of his reality and make it mine. Giving in or putting out – I was carving this experience for myself.

It had been awhile since I’d done something that felt this good yet wasn’t quantifiable on Instagram. I grabbed onto the back of his head, dug my fingers into his damp hair and moaned at the city – wedging this very moment into in my brain, deep between my eyes – tucked in right above my spine.

Across the road the roof top was barren, two lone deck chairs – rough but quaint. What did we look like from a distance? Two urban animals stealing four feet of primal isolation.

I was really starting to come alive, from his kisses and grunts that he wouldn’t be long. I thrust back at him, more energy with every motion. I thrust at all the bullshit, the pettiness. I had the right to celebrate, the money from Alex had come through today,  shit was getting real. I was the founder of the hot new startup – I could celebrate by getting a little high and having some roof sex. I decided I should to take this new version of me out for a breakfast of pancakes and bacon.

He finished. Staying close, panting on my shoulder and letting my leg down slowly. Already I couldn’t remember what he tasted like, I wished I had taken more notice, it felt too late to kiss him again now. He stepped back, smiled, pants around his ankles, wrapped in a cheeky look. Who was this dude? This casual demeanor of a guy who has sex above his own packed party and now looked like he wanted to sit down for a cup of tea.

He turned away to take off the condom, casting the evidence aside for someone to discover then considering I was here and tossing it further out of sight. I began to arrange myself. Why did we have to do this aftermath? Can we blink and be back downstairs? I wanted the cover of the dance floor, I needed a strong drink to get to know this girl, this new version of me about to climb back through that stupid window.

I wanted to know what she had in mind for tomorrow, how far she wanted to go, and what else she was willing to break.

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