This is a mental decongestant. Sorry
She’s not sure how they transitioned from mind-blowing sex to this, but she was wishing desperately she was still face down in the bed with his dick buried in her ass. Her mind drifts to that as they stare at each other. He’d once again issued a challenge, and he’d once again delivered. If they could hop a time machine back to enjoying that, maybe she’d have told him to shut up and go home. Or at the very least save it so they could go another round.
“Just ask. I can practically see the question floating above your head.”
There went the rest of her delightful post sex buzz. She knew without a doubt he was about to ruin her good evening by over sharing. For a half a second she considered leaving it lie. They would get together and keep things simple. Simple being him fucking her brains out.
She’d already connected the dots so it begged the next question. “Who keeps your daughter when you come to see me?”
In the fading light filtering through the windows she could see it written on his face. “Her mother, who lives with me. We’ve been together for two years.”
Everything takes on a slightly different hue after those words. Now each encounter has to be viewed under this different light.
“Does she know?” She can’t seem to force anything else from between her lips.
He pauses for a few beats and then grimaces before his face smooths out. “No, but I don’t need to. Regardless, this has no bearing on the things we do together.”
“Of course not.”
She offers a smile, but inside she’s pulling away, severing mental connections. Can’t have it both ways. Actually, she couldn’t have anything at all because of shit like this.