8. Piper
8
PIPER
He floats us gently back to the bed and unwraps his arms from my body. His aedeagus draws from me with a wet slurp, disappearing into his body, before his claspers release their grip on my thighs. I'm still trying to catch my breath as I sink into the sheets. My entire body feels limp and sensitive at the same time. I can feel his cum dripping out of me, cooling against my thighs. Crap. It’s a good thing I'm on the pill. We didn’t even talk about birth control. Is there even a condom that would cover him?
He doesn’t move from above me. His fingers comb through my hair and graze across my cheeks, his antennae waving gently.
My breath is still heavy, I press my face into his hand, nuzzling his palm.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice heavy with concern.
“I’m great, phenomenal, amazing.” I say. If anything, I’m mildly irritated by him inundating me with questions when I’m trying to revel in my post orgasm high.
He doesn’t seem convinced. “You are sure?” he asks again, his finger brushes gently across my cheek. That's when I feel the wetness. I reach up to wipe my own face. Tears.
I’m crying.
This is new. I've never had a crygasm before. How embarrassing.
I pull away from his touch, swiping at my own face. The tears are flowing freely now, like my relaxed muscles released something pent up inside me.
“Please, tell me if I hurt you.”
“I’m okay, I promise,” I repeat and turn away from him, wiping more wetness from my face.
“It isn’t normal for humans to cry after sex.” He says it like a fact he learned on the back of a cereal box. “It is usually when they are hurt or sad. Is it one of those? Have I hurt you?”
“I’m not hurt or sad.” I glance at him, trying to see if he is making an odd joke. He sits on his heels, watching me earnestly, his antennae tilting forward, his wings fluttering.
“Can I do anything? Call someone? Should I get a doctor?” he asks.
“No.” I laugh, but his concern is endearing. “I just—had a really intense orgasm and I think it unblocked some kind of emotional dam.”
How long has it been since I came from anything other than my own hand?
Colin and I were together for three years, but the past couple months have been—dry, and even before that, the orgasms weren’t super common, not that he was bad at sex ? ? 1 . Maybe we just weren’t compatible. Maybe I am compatible with…a Mothman.
“Do you need anything? I will get whatever you want. Food, drink, medicine—” He leans away from me, his hands hovering in the air like he is ready to fetch anything I ask for.
“Maybe you could just hold me?” I ask.
“Hold you?” He repeats the phrase like my words don’t make sense.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s silly—“ I start to roll from the bed but then he’s there lying beside me, tugging me in close to his warm body. One hand wraps around my shoulder, pressing my face to his chest, and the other pulls a blanket up and tucks it around me. It’s comforting, safe, cozy. Like a cocoon.
With one shuddering breath, I allow myself to melt into him, burying my face in his furry mane, breathing in the slightly dusty scent of him, and digging my hand into his fur, our legs intertwining.
There are more tears now. It's intensely intimate, even compared to him coming inside me. I’m not normally a crier. It makes me feel vulnerable, which is terrifying. But, since I never plan to see this Mothman again, I can let go. I can express whatever emotion I feel. It doesn’t matter if I embarrass myself.
I wrap a hand around his narrow waist, needing to feel a little more of him.
He doesn’t speak, like he knows I need a moment of silence. His gentle breath brushes my hair, his arm strokes up and down my spine. He continues even after my tears have dried up.
“Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?” he finally asks. “Is there any pain?”
“Just the right amount of pain. I promise.”
“It was good?" There's a long pause after his question, like he has more to say, so I wait for the eventual follow-up. "I’ve never done that with a human before.”
I sob out a laugh, and he stiffens under me.
“Wait. Are you serious?” I pull back enough to see his face. His antennae manage to look sheepish. “You were really good.”
“I made you cry.”
I choke back another laugh. “You made me come so hard that I cried. It’s very different.”
We are quiet for another long moment.
“Did you enjoy it?” I ask tentatively. “The uh…sex.”
A soft tittering laugh echoes from his chest. “I liked it very much, Piper. You are also very good at it.”
“That might mean more if you had something to compare me to,” I tease, although the brief thought of him with someone else irks me.
“I don’t need anyone to compare you to,” he says quietly. Crap. Can Mothmen read minds? “I’m glad I could make you happy.”
“Very happy.” I rearrange slightly, and I don’t stop touching him. “Crying isn’t a normal human reaction after sex. If you decide to have sex with more humans after me.” Which I don’t want to think about right now.
“You may have ruined me for other humans.” He purrs and I lean into the sound.
I laugh. “Sorry for crying on you.”
“You can cry more, if you want. I don’t mind.”
“I think I got it all out.” I trace a hand across his ribbed stomach, just enjoying touching him, before a wave of embarrassment washes over me.
It’s well past 2am, but the endorphins of the night are still rolling through me. I’ve always been a night owl, two is a regular bedtime for me. This is barely pushing my limit. I probably should go. That’s how one-night stands are supposed to work, right? I should’ve clarified with Anam. I should be leaving, or he should be kicking me out. Right?
“Sorry, you are probably sick of cuddling an almost complete stranger.” I start to pull away, his arms don’t release me.
“Stay. Please. I want to hold you as long as you let me.” His words are very quiet and I’m grateful for that because I want to ignore the way they make my stomach sink.
1 ? Maybe he was bad at sex.