I wanted to stretch him thin, to iron out any knots and troubles, and hold him. I wanted to kiss him, make sure he ate properly. I wanted to make him smile. I wanted to fix him. So I held him tighter and fucked him slower. I lost myself to the warmth of his body, to the feel of him underneath me, to the sounds he made, to the gasps and moans. I lost all track of time. And maybe for the first time, I lost myself. All that existed was him.
