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lick
and suck her button. The kitchen table was hard and cold under her
back. Malcolm was hard and hot on her front.
     
    Claire lifted her hips to his probing tongue.
He rolled his tongue on her clit, then slipped a finger inside her
and pressed upward. Her body jerked in response. Orgasmic
contractions rippled through her, but she didn't come. Not
quite.
     
    "Make love to me," she told him and watched
through love-glazed eyes as he stripped off his shirt and
pants.
     
    Unfettered by the trousers, his penis sprang
free. She sat up and scooted to the table's edge. Malcolm took his
cock in his hand and nudged the tip inside her. He wet himself with
her fluid and eased in an inch. Out. Back in, just a bit further.
Then out again, his clock glistening with her juices, before he
seated himself to the hilt.
     
    They both moaned at the same time. Claire's
head dropped to his chest for a moment as she struggled to control
the waves of pleasure washing over her. She hooked her ankles
around the backs of his thighs as Malcolm began to move.
     
    His first thrusts were slow and easy, like
the man himself. His cock stretched her. Claire looked down to
where their bodies joined. Her dark curls meshed with his lighter
ones. Her rose colored lips enfolded his similarly shaded penis.
The pink pearl of her clit stood at attention. Every thrust moved
the small button back and forth. The pink turned darker as her clit
engorged.
     
    Claire put a fingertip to her clit and
pressed gently. It throbbed beneath her touch and her vagina
contracted around Malcolm's cock. She rubbed the smooth flesh in a
small, tight circle. It was enough to finish her off.
     
    The sea rushed over her. Ecstasy engulfed
her. She couldn't see or hear or think. She could only feel.
     
    It was over too soon. Good sex always
was.Malcolm helped her off the table, then looked ruefully at the
plate of eggs which had been smashed to the floor without either of
them noticing. "I'll get the broom."
     
    She touched his arm until he turned to face
her. "Are you all right?"
     
    He kissed her. "You love me?"
     
    "You know I do."
     
    His sigh was heavy but his grin light when he
replied, "Then I'm all right."
     
    Still, his eyes were shadowed. His answer
didn't satisfy. Claire left him to clean up the mess and make more
breakfast while she showered.
     
    What could have made him cry? Was he sick?
Was it something with his job? Or his family? The questions
wouldn't leave her as she fiddled with the faucet to set the water
temperature just right.
     
    Claire and Malcolm had known each other since
their freshman year of college. They'd lived in the same dormitory.
They'd had the same friends. But it wasn't until the Fellowship had
all chipped in to buy this dilapidated beach house, Nonesuch, that
they'd fallen in love. Still, in the time they'd been together,
she'd never seen him upset enough to weep.
     
    Claire stepped into the shower and tipped her
face to the spray. Warm water cascaded over her closed eyes. She
turned to let it pound on her back while she pondered.
     
    If anything, she would have said Malcolm was
too lackadaisical to grieve for anything. He could be brooding,
even taciturn at times, but mostly he took life with all the
seriousness of the grasshopper who played. Too often she felt like
the ant in that fable. Working. Planning for the future. They
hadn't spoken of marriage, but she'd thought about it plenty. He'd
told her often enough he wasn't ready to settle down. Once, he'd
told her he wasn't even ready to be tied down...
     
    Claire frowned and turned again to let the
water wash over her face. Malcolm didn't want to be tied down? When
had he said that? She could hear his voice saying those very words
inside her head, clear as daylight...but when had he said them?
     
    Despite the hot water, her skin humped into
gooseflesh. Something was wrong here. Something was not right.
     
    Some things change.
     
    And some things don't.
     
    Now she heard her own