IN THE HOURS BETWEEN • TC

34. Best Fit

Long time no see! I hope you're all well. 

---

When Una stands up, she feels slightly wobbly. She's closer to Timmy than she probably should be. His breath smells like warmth and toothpaste, and his lips are softly chapped against her own.

"How long did you say they were going to be?" she asks, and Timmy shakes his head, trailing kisses over her cheek, up to her ear.

"I don't know," he mumbles. "Long enough that we can finally-"

Timmy breaks off and Una closes her eyes so she doesn't have to see him struggle for the right word for it.

What is it that they're going to do? Fuck is too harsh, too violent. Have sex is too clinical, too straightforward, and this is anything but. Make love is cringeworthy, something for married couples and prudes scared of the word sex.

Timmy's hands climb up the back of her shirt and fumble with her clasp momentarily. So quickly it's barely a fumble. Una steps backwards and stumbles on the leg of her spinny chair. Timmy's smile is barely hidden by her shirt as she tugs it over her head along with her bra. He glances down and bends a little, kissing all over her chest and latching on to one of her nipples.

Una stares blankly at the wall as he licks, his tongue warm against her heaving chest. This can't be happening. For once she is the main attraction, the big deal. For once she is the complete centre of someone's attention. She looks down at Timothée's soft curls and runs her hand up the back of his head, grabbing a few of the longer tufts at the top, and his face tilts up to look at her. His eyes are big, his mouth glistening, and Una pulls him in for a kiss, licking into his mouth and circling his waist with her arms.

Timmy steps backwards and Una follows, still grabbing onto him as if he could disappear.

—

Minutes pass in a blur of kisses and thinly veiled moans, gasps. Timothée is sat in the gap between her thighs, one leg tucked underneath him and the other hanging off her bed as he puts on a condom. Una watches as he slides it down his dick, spitting into his hand and jerking it a couple of times. She thinks about just now, his mouth against her pussy, buried in wetness and desperation. There is a slightly warm sensation as he lines himself up, and Una is worried. She knows she's wet, knows she wants it. But it's going to hurt and she doesn't want to make herself vulnerable. (Although maybe that's what this is. Maybe she's vulnerable already.)

"Stop, stop, stop," she winces, squeezing his arm. He can't be more than a couple of centimetres in, and already the stretch is painful.

"It hurts?" Timmy frowns, and leans down to kiss her gently, pulling her fringe away from her eyes. Una nods.

"Sorry," she whispers, and he shakes his head.

"We will go slowly, very slowly," he tells her quietly, and Una manages half a smile. "Maybe this," Timmy suggests, grabbing a decorative pillow and placing it under her hips.

It helps a little. He slides in further. Una can see that it feels good, can see that he's trying not to let it show. She feels bad. "Sorry for making you wait," she says, not entirely truthfully. If he wasn't waiting she'd be in excruciating pain.

"Ce n'est rien," he frowns. "We can wait for all the time it takes."

She blinks up at him slowly. Opens her mouth for another kiss, and Timmy brings his face towards hers. She closes her eyes and opens them a few seconds after to see him smiling mockingly at her. She jolts her face up to meet his and he jerks his head away playfully, grinning. Una tries to sit up and involuntarily Timmy slides further into her. She winces, letting out a pained breath, and his grin turns to a concerned frown.