He fell back on the bed. We both lay together and tried to recover from such a powerful physical act. He turned his head to face me. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and said, “Fucking wow! What the fuck was that?”
“I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had,” I replied and reached across to wipe the sweat off his brow.
This suggestion seemed to intrigue him. He looked at me with this strange grin and replied, “Really? You? Me?”
I sighed, leaned into him, kissed his lips, and replied, “Quite right.”
“All right, look at me. I’m a man now,” he declared facetiously. “Sweetheart, you made me a man. I think … no, I know, I have superpowers too. See what you did! Now I’ll have to save the world or something. Or just make a movie about it.”
“I’ll write it for you,” I replied, smiled, and kissed him.
Kale’s eyes light up. He liked that idea. “I think so. Yes, we’ll remake Superman for the 100th time. No, wait! Spiderman … again. Or no, Batman! Yeah, Batman and Brea – that has a nice ring too it.” He put his head back on the pillow and looked up at the ceiling. My producer and lover looked quit self-satisfied.
I threw a pillow at him. “Don’t look so smug!” I cried.
Kale sat up, grabbed me by the waist, and hoisted me up onto his waist. He smiled so brightly at me. He really looked so happy. His happiness was catching, and I realized for the first time in a long time I felt great. I leaned over, kissed him again, and quietly whispered, “Thank you.”
“For what? Fucking your incredible body? Sweetheart, I would do that anytime,” he said and then realized I wasn’t kidding. He became serious, touched my cheek, blinked in recognition of my genuine feelings, and pulled me in for a tender kiss. The rest of the night we fucked just that passionately another five times. I came every single time. And for the record, it was the best sex I ever had.