After fucking Cindy, I stepped back and steadied my breathing, running a hand through my hair. Cindy was bent forward against the table, forearms braced on the surface, her shoulders rising and falling.
The sounds she was making were soft and involuntary, small exhales that made her even more hot right now.
I reached down and pulled her skirt back into place, smoothing it down over her thighs and knees with hands that were still slightly unsteady. A small thing. She didn't comment on it but I felt her relax fractionally at the gesture.
I pulled my own clothing back together, pants up, belt buckled, the mechanical process of reassembling yourself after the fact and leaned against the edge of the table beside her, breathing.
"We keep doing it raw somehow," I said, after a moment. More observation than anything.
"Haa…haaa…. yeah," she managed, a breathless laugh somewhere in the sound. She pushed herself upright slowly, one arm at a time, her blond hair a bit dishevelled.
