Fire Down Below Read Online Free PDF

pizza and watched Ferris Bueller’s Day Off .  Even
sitting on his couch, eating pizza we couldn’t stop touching each other. I’d
sit with my leg thrown over his while he rested his hand on my thigh, moving it
slowly upward, until I’d tell him to stop—though I didn’t really mean it. Then
he’d slide his hand between my legs, so there was only a piece of fabric
between his fingers and me. He’d cup me, pressing with his whole hand while I
squirmed against him.
    Ben liked to watch my reaction to
the things he did to me. When he saw me getting aroused he’d tell me how much I
turned him on and how he couldn’t stop thinking about me, how he could barely get
enough of me even when we were together. And I knew exactly how he felt because
I couldn’t stop thinking about him either. I’d find myself in the oddest places—at
work, buying groceries, or shopping downtown—when I’d get a flash of him,
anything at all—the way he looks when he takes his shirt off, the taste of his
mouth on mine, the sounds he makes when I give him a blow job, and I’d feel an
intense longing, not to mention instantly horny. I’d never had such intense
sexual chemistry with someone before and I swear it was like heroin, not that
I’ve ever tried heroin. In truth, I imagine it was far better than heroin.
    Usually when we got together we’d
have sex three or four times a night, varying the things we did with each other,
the positions we tried, the way we used our mouths or hands, doing it in the
bathtub, doing it in the shower, doing it with our clothes on or off. Ben joked
that he needed to start buying condoms in bulk at Costco because we were
burning through them so fast, though after a few weeks I decided to go on the pill
and we didn’t need them anymore. He told me I was the only woman he’d ever been
with who could keep him hard all night. (A scandalous compliment if I’ve ever
heard one!) Being with Ben was like having endless thirst while he offered me one
tall glass of water after another.
    One night, about two months after
we had started dating, and after we’d satiated ourselves in bed, Ben told me he
loved me.
    “I’ve never felt like this before.”
 
    “I love you too,” I said, though
in truth, I wasn’t entirely sure. I’d never been in love. For all I knew this
constant state of dizzying arousal was how it felt. We had fun hanging out
together, although it was mostly in bed. Ben had never met my friends, nor had
I met his. Occasionally he’d say something about going hiking with him on the
weekend, but nothing ever came of it. The truth was I didn’t want to go hiking
with him. I either painted or hung out with my friends doing the things I liked
and he spent the weekends doing the things he liked.
    After I told him I loved him too,
he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in close while I buried my face in
his neck, smelling that guy scent of soap and sweat. And then as if having the
same thoughts that I was having a moment ago, he asked me if I’d like to come
to a dinner party his friends Megan and Bernard were throwing on Saturday.
    I sat up, resting on my elbows. “It’ll
be nice to meet some of your friends.”
    “Yeah, they want to meet you too.
I’ve told them all about you.”
    “You told them that we fuck like
bunny rabbits?”
    He grinned. “Nah, I told them bunny
rabbits only wished they fucked as much as we do.”
    I laughed. “What did you really
tell them about me?”
    “I told them we knew each other in
college, that you work as a barista, that you’re an artist, and of course I
mentioned that you give a fantastic blow job.”
    “And what did they say?”
    “They thought you sounded great!”
    “You didn’t really say that part
about my giving a fantastic blow job did you?”
    Ben gave me a look that said—are you
crazy? I couldn’t imagine him being so crude anyway. He was sensual in bed, but
I got the impression he was far more reserved with the other people in