When We’re Not Trying

I like her body when it’s with our bodies.


Sometimes, when we’re tired of thinking and tired of trying, we simply lie on the bed in a tangle of limbs and see what comes next. There’s no choreography and no goal setting to make us do any one thing, and it feels good to give up. Maybe there’s a hand here or lips there, but it doesn’t matter. No one is getting called names, and no one has an ounce of work to do.


Sometimes we suck, or fuck, but often we let ourselves be alone as we lie there together. We don’t speak and we don’t decide, but as each one of us drifts into their own world, we give room for what we need. He likes to sit up with both hands on his cock and she likes to move from her back to her stomach over and over again. I dig my toes into the sheets and raise my ass off the bed as my right hand moves faster and faster.


And on those days, when we’re not trying, when we’re not attempting to make something out of sex, we often come all at once. After all this time our rhythms connect and one person’s moans lead to another and then another. Her screams are by far the loudest, but our voices snuggle up against them and all three of us watch as our cocks swell and burst.


Sometimes when we’re tired of thinking and tired of trying, we simply lie on the bed in a tangle of limbs and see what comes next.

 

Guy New York

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