Again, as Musette is falling asleep, I have sex with her. This time feels even more forced than the last. She is dryer and I am more awkward. But she does not tell me to stop. I start by trying to put her legs over my shoulders but she wants me to lie beside her like we’re spooning which does little for me as I have to writhe around like a snake or a seizing child to create any sort of sexual friction. I do my best though to make it work, grabbing her by the shoulders and thrusting myself into her hard and deep. She says, there you go babe. But something still doesn’t feel right. I’m unable to grasp the reasoning behind why my thrusting deeper and harder into her should feel any better to her or for that matter how it will get her any closer to achieving an orgasm. It doesn’t feel much better to me. I feel like I’m missing a certain snugness, like her vagina is not grasping my penis properly, like our sex organs are on two different time signatures or two different planes of reality.
After a while of being in this position I lift her rump and kneel behind her, fucking her from behind with my knees on the mattress, using the lubrication again because she has gotten dry to the point of airiness.
The orgasm I have feels light and insubstantial, providing me with not so much a sense of bliss as a sense of release.