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Comfort

I'm lying on the couch, going over the last of my emails on my laptop when there's a knock on my apartment door. I put the laptop aside and go to the door, looking through the peephole. I smile and open the door but my smile fades when I see the weary lines on her face.

"Hey," I say to her.

"I didn't feel like going home," she says, her eyes intently gauging my reaction. I open the door wider and reach out to take her satchel from her hand. She walks through the threshold and I offer to take her coat. She gives it to me and I put her things away in the closet by the door.

"Want a drink?" I ask and she nods.

I pull a whiskey bottle from a cupboard. I don't drink whiskey. I keep it here for her.

I grab a glass, put some ice cubes into it and pour a generous amount of alcohol into the glass for her. I bring the drink over to her where she's seated in one of the armchairs in the living room. She takes the offered glass, her fingers brushing mine in the exchange and I feel a jolt run through me.

I know she's tired and stressed and wants to talk but doesn't want to burden me with what troubles her. I don't push her. I know she'll talk when she's ready. I know that right now, she just wants to unwind and let the weight of the day lift off her. She takes a sip of her drink and then another. I sit down beside her. I hesitate but decide to reach out and put my hand on her upper arm, attempting to let her know that it's safe here, that she can talk if she wants to, but also that she doesn't have to say anything at all. Either way, I'm just happy to have her here.

She leans her elbows on her knees and takes another drink. The fact that she didn't move from my touch or tell me to stop encourages me to sit closer to her and put both hands on her shoulders, slowly and gently kneading her flesh. She doesn't like to be vulnerable. It makes her feel weak and needy. I know she works at being strong all the time, but even Superman needed to recharge every once in awhile. I know she comes here to recharge, to let her guard down and be herself. I also know that by doing so, she's putting all her trust in me and I'd do anything to never break that trust. It takes a while, and although I don't know if it was the alcohol or the massage and I don't care, she finally relaxes. Her shoulders are no longer tense and the lines on her forehead are gone.

"Case after case...it never ends," she finally says, the first words she's spoken since stepping into my apartment.

I continue to rub her shoulders and the back of her neck with my thumb and fingers and she closes her eyes and leans her head back.

"You must get sick of my visits, coming here and complaining all the time," she says. Deep down inside, we both know that she can't go home to unload about the stresses of her day and that here, on my couch is where she's most comfortable to let go of it all.

I don't answer and finally she opens her eyes and turns to look at me. I lean into her and kiss her chastely on her lips. "I never tire of your visits," I whisper as we break apart.

She reaches up and cups my face with her right hand and I lean back into her, only this time, I let her know just exactly how much I don't mind her coming around whenever she doesn't want to go home. Her lips and tongue tell me just how much she likes coming around here. With each stroke of her tongue in my mouth, I feel the throbbing between my legs grow more and more intense and I can feel my nipples straining against my tank top.

I feel her hands slide around my waist and then under the hem of my shirt. I start to unbutton her shirt and slide my hands into her open shirt, cupping her breasts in my hands. She moans into my mouth and I want nothing more than to feel her body against me. I pull back and get up, taking her by the hand and pulling her up with me.

I take her into the bedroom and pull her to my bed, stripping her of her clothes and shedding my own in the process. I push her back onto the bed and I straddle her hips. I lean down and take her lips in a searing kiss and then I make my way down her body, kissing and licking my way to her hard pink nipple. I tease her, my tongue licking around the nipple and then finally when she guides my head over her breast, I wrap my lips around the rosy pebble and suck on it, my tongue flicking it. I feel her press her breast against my mouth and I clamp my teeth down gently on her nipple, slowly applying pressure, just the way she likes it. Her breathing is laboured now and I know what she wants, the release that she needs. I give the other nipple equal attention and then move downward until I'm nestled in between her legs.

I can smell her arousal and it turns me on more and more every time. I can't wait any longer and I dive in, my lips and tongue on her nether lips and then on her clit, teasing it and tasting her delicious juices. She lifts her hips, asking me for more contact and I oblige, sliding my finger into her warmth which welcomes me with a wonderful wetness that I've come to enjoy tremendously. My lips and tongue continue to suck and lick her nerve bundle and she grinds herself against my mouth. I match her rhythm, reveling in her warmth, scent and taste. As her breathing grows more and more ragged with every bit of suction I give her, her hands are soon in my hair and I feel her body tense as her orgasm grips her and my finger. I ride out her orgasm with her until her hips slow down and then still.

I gently lap up her juices, avoiding the overly sensitive nerve bundle and move back up to her, leaving a trail of kisses in my wake. I lie down beside her, nuzzling her neck. I can never get enough of her scent...or her. On the surface, it may seem as though it is I who is comforting her and giving her release from the stresses of her day, but in all reality, her willingness to be here and to give herself to me comforts me just as much and keeps my own demons away.
"Can I stay awhile?" she asks quietly in the dead silence of the room, a raw vulnerability in her voice.

"As long as you want," I tell her and mean every word of it.