I want to escape the smell of garbage and grease.
After tossing the bag into the dumpster, I wipe my hands on my uniform and pull off my red and yellow visor, letting my dark blonde hair escape from its ponytail.
The ascent to the roof is like breathing again. The muscles in my legs protest as I climb to the top. It is a cool paradise up here compared to the stagnant summer haze on the ground. It’s so quiet—I can actually hear traffic lights click as they turn from green, to yellow, to red, with no cars left to heed them at quarter to three in the morning.
Josh’s cigarette winks at me from the corner. I reach my arms out to the sky and twirl, making myself dizzy before sinking to the asphalt roof top. He laughs, but doesn’t come to me. Not yet.
I lay there unbuttoning my uniform. There is no getting away from the fetid smell of fries and hamburgers without taking off my clothes. Only when I am free, laying there in my bra and panties, the sharp bite of gravel pressing into my back—then, Josh comes over and stretches out beside me, hands behind his head.
“Me or the sky?”
I am smiling as he rolls onto me, already nearly nude. He presses his lower body against me, moving slightly, and I watch his eyes grow hungry. He wants what I want—we are both greedy to get lost in it.
As he kisses me, his mouth rough, I slide a small, warm hand inside his underwear. A soft sound escapes his throat as he trails his mouth over my neck.
“Sara,” he whispers as my hand moves faster. I gasp when he lets his full weight press into me, lean and hard against my softness. His hand trails down and finds me, and I sigh, rocking with it, on a cloud far away in the darkness.
When pulls my panties aside and nudges against me, I open to him. He moves forward, into me, and my hands go to his hips.
Our sweat mingles, serving to cool us even in the humid night air. I can taste it, salty and exciting, when I kiss his neck, urging him on. The delicious friction builds up and up. We are cool water and rain, together—every part of us liquid at the center. We are trickles expanding into streams, flowing toward rivers. Then, we become the ocean, every wave carrying the sweet potential to carry us toward shore.
I am floating beyond my own borders, bleeding past the boundaries of my flesh, swirling into a sweet vortex of calm and chaos where only he can take me. I have been here before, in his arms, on this roof, but I am not really here at all. I am stardust—a bright, gentle hum under the brilliant light and heat of him.
Up and up, I feel my climax coming and work towards it. It's like my escape to the roof, a climb toward the stars. His breathing is shallow and harsh as I move beneath him, gasping, grasping, my nails digging into the skin of his back. Our bodies merge, and we are just slippery flesh slapping together in the quiet night, a wet, sticky coupling on the roof—and yet, we are more than that in every breath, one more miracle, not apart or separate from each other or anything in that moment.
His motion becomes fluid and he opens his eyes, looking at me. I feel like I can look up through him and see the stars.
I cry out and my muscles tighten and begin to contract as I shiver beneath him. My breath sucks in and I clutch him, feeling him let go, the force shuddering through him in waves. It is the moment I long for and dread, every time I make this climb toward heaven. I am lost in the blissful pulse, the rhythmic heartbeat of it all, but it is only for a moment. It ebbs as quickly as it has come, and now I can only feel our hearts beating together in our sticky chests, slightly off-rhythm and off-center now.
He loses his breath for a moment, falling forward onto me, still trembling and burying his face into the side of my neck. I stroke his hair, damp with sweat and redolent with grease.
There is no escaping it, even up here.
About the Author: Like any feline, Selena Kitt loves the things that make her purr—and wants nothing more than to make others purr right along with her! This sassy, outrageous author lives in the rural Midwest with her husband and children, all of whom she thinks are the cat’s meow. Her writing embodies everything from the spicy to the scandalous, but watch out—this kitty also has sharp claws and her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths. When she isn’t pawing away at her keyboard, she loves belly dancing and photography. Visit Selena at http://www.selenakitt.com