Steam Clean

It’s been over seventeen years since I showered with her, but I still remember every moment, every wet touch. Her nipples in my fingers, her tongue on my mouth, her hands around my back.
“When I was with you, I never came,” she told me years later. “But some things are better than that.”
She’d had trouble sleeping one night, and half-awake, we ground on each other for an hour on the sofa until we both fell asleep together.
But it wasn’t enough for her.
She dumped me, quit her job, and moved away.
I had the sofa professionally steam-cleaned.

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