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moment to wonder why I was indulging in this instead of getting right to the point, which was fucking Esther again so that she was out of my system. But maybe this was good, I reasoned. I’d take my time, have my curiosity slaked once and for all, and move past this.
    And then when I entered her room, saw the first flash of black silk, the plump rounds of the ass it covered, I didn’t think anymore.
    “You starting without me?” I said as I stepped behind her and grabbed a generous handful of that flesh with one hand as I pushed her pants down with the other.
    “You were taking forever,” she said.
    “You’re that anxious for me. How flattering,” I replied, hooking my fingers in the waistband of her panties and then pushing them down, my attention captured by the material sliding down her full thighs and then over strong calves to rest atop her pants.
    “Did you come here to chat?” she asked, though she couldn’t quite match her usual snippiness.
    “Nope,” I said as I reached between her thighs and cupped her sex. “I came here to fuck. Feels like you did too,” I added when I brushed her cream-slicked lips.
    She shifted, dropping her hips and then exhaling on a sigh. As she rocked against me, she tiled her head, exposed the long column of her neck. I tightened my grip, grazed my lips against her skin. Smooth, soft, deliciously sweet. Not things I would have said about Esther, but with just one touch, the feel of her skin against my lips had become addictive.
    So I took my fill, licking and biting at her neck as I worked my palm against her sex, using the heel of my hand to press her clit. Each taste of her increased my urgency, and soon I snaked my arm around her front, cupping one of her full tits, the tight bud of her nipple searing against my palm.
    On a low huff, she turned in my arms and lifted her dark eyes to meet mine. Desire was the first thing I saw, but then there was something else, a depth and openness that I hadn’t seen before from her, from anyone, really. I knew what people saw when they looked at me, what women wanted from me. Money or status, or at times like these when I had them half naked a hand stuffed in their panties, sex, but this was different.
    Esther was different.
    And not because I almost came on the spot when she unzipped my pants and wrapped her hand around my shaft, her hand the perfect mix of strength and softness, a feeling only intensified by her strong, soft curves under my hands.
    And not because of the sweet little breaths she huffed out when I teased her nipple through the fabric of her bra, breaths that went deeper, heavier when I moved the fabric aside and squeezed the plump bud between my fingers, twisting just enough to make her squirm.
    And not because of the way she touched my back, pulled my shirt up and over my head and then stroked her hands back down, lingering for just a moment to twine her fingers in the hair that covered my chest before she teased my flat nipple as I did hers.
    No, it was the way she looked at me. Bold, unafraid, my equal. Like I was just a man and she a woman who wanted me. I hadn’t experienced that before, had never had an encounter so free of expectation. And I found that I liked it very, very much.
    But I didn’t have an opportunity to reflect on it, not when Esther moved away, eyes on mine as she ran her hands up her long, rounded thighs and then unhooked and discarded her bra, leaving her bare in front of me.
    I tried to take in all of her at once, her soft shoulders, generous breasts, the gentle hill of her stomach, the dark triangle between her thighs. In that moment, she looked to me like the epitome of womanhood, and I couldn’t wait to have her.
    I stepped out of my pants and then retrieved a condom from my pocket. I sat of the edge of her bed and leaned back. “Come here, Esther.”
    “I don’t usually respond well to orders, Sorin,” she said, sultry voice at odds with what she said.
    “You respond to mine. I can