She slipped a curled middle finger between the folds of her pussy and remembered the way he used to hold her.

They’d been inside his car, in a nearly empty parking lot in the rain. She pressed against his chest; his arms enfolded her like wings. She listened to the plink, plink, plink of the rain on the roof of the car as he held her. The sound of the rain mixed with the dance of his heartbeat and the slow regular draw of his breathing until they merged into one seamless rhythm.

The memory seemed ancient, from another lifetime.

He slept beside her in their bed now, lost in dreams, unaware of her, yet so close she could feel the heat from his skin. She gently massaged the flesh of her tit as she pressed her finger against the lips of her labia, feeling a kiss of wetness against her fingertip.

He had held her, in the car, in the rain, because she had been scared. She had been scared, but she felt safe, held in the bridge of his arms. Plink, plink, plink. The single streetlight in the center of the parking lot flung long, leaning shadows across the cracked asphalt. Raindrops pocked the surface of the puddles of rainwater until they looked like moonscapes.

She grew sleepy, listening to the rain. As she dozed she slid her head and shoulders down the plane of his chest.

She settled into his lap and fell into dreams.

In the bed, in the now, a million years and a thousand miles from the car and the rain, she felt wide awake. She pinched a nipple lightly between thumb and forefinger, thinking of that night. Her other hand dipped into her entrance, feeling sticky warmth surround her fingertip.

She gasped. She turned suddenly to see if he still slept, or had been awakened by her sharp intake of breath.

He breathed smoothly, soundly, deeply.

She loved watching him sleep.

Why this distance between them?

No matter. She knew why. They both knew why.

She remembered, back in the car, in the rain, how she had awakened to find his cock semi-erect and inches away from her face.

It aroused her to see him aroused. She may have been scared and in need of comfort, but seeing him desire her left her more comforted, less scared.

She slid a finger a little further into her pussy as she remembered nuzzling his cock with her face, watching his length and girth grow slowly beneath his jeans. She nibbled at his length through the fabric of his pants, teasing him, lightly kissing the bulge of his cockhead.

She felt so connected to him. In the car. In the rain.

Plink, plink, plink.

Here in bed, in the now, remembering that connection, she slid a second finger inside the soft ring of her entrance. She spread her legs further, imagining he was the one doing the spreading--she loved how he spread her legs, using his knees, his hands, his tongue, his cock--and as she did her knee slid over his legs. Again, she stopped cold, made sure he slept peacefully. When she felt sure he was asleep she continued, enjoying the feel of his skin against her own. As she parted her legs she fell back into fantasy and remembrance. The car. The rain. His cock straining against the fabric of his pants as she lay her head in his lap.

She’d unzipped him, felt his still-hardening cock slap her lightly against the cheek. She giggled before corralling his cockhead into her mouth with her lips and tongue. She’d tasted pre-cum on his length immediately. The salty Clorox brashness aroused her in the car, at the time, and aroused her in the bed, now. She felt a small, quiet orgasm rising within her, from the muscles of her stomach and legs. She slid her hand across her chest to fondle and pinch at her other nipple, trying to mimic the way he fondled and pinched at her.

She could easily awaken him and feel his desire immediately, his actual hands on her. She didn’t.

This distance between them.

She knew why. They both knew why.

In the car, in the rain, she had focused on his cockhead, slathering it with attention, his pre-cum mixing with her saliva as he hardened inside her mouth. She loved to feel him grow thick and fat between her lips, his skin slick and warm on her tongue. Her playful nips and kisses gave way to fully enveloping him in her mouth, taking him deeper, feeling her throat constrict around him, seizing his length in her wet grip.

In the bed, in the now, she felt her orgasm tickling at her, a shiver of lush heat. She turned to face him in the bed, wanting to see him as she came, even if it was only the back of his head. Her eyes roamed the broad expanse of his back, the sleeping curves of his arms, the arms that had held her so many times, and promised to hold her for the rest of her days.

She came simply and with little fuss, the memory of his cock in her mouth combining with the real life feel of his leg against her own.

Her climax washed over her gently, quietly. She hadn’t desired anything more. No need for the animal cry, muscles seizing in ecstasy. That moment she would save for him. She wanted the comfort of the memory more than the physical release.

Her breathing returned to normal, her pulse slowed, her nerves calmed, ready to sleep and dream and wake up next to the man she loved to begin the new day. Within minutes she fell easily into dreams.

Back turned to her, head facing away, he opened his eyes, careful to mask any motion that might betray his wakefulness.