The need.

It was efficiency sex. The kind you can only have when it's been too long and both of you know it. When the pleasantries are almost nothing but, since it's almost intolerable to keep your hands to yourself through drinks and conversation and the obligatory nighttime rituals. When neither of you can be bothered by worrying about how you feel about each other, and no one needs to say much of anything.

When every word you say only barely hides the innuendo behind it, because how could you possibly need to talk about anything when the only thing you can focus on is the need itself? The kind where when you finally start touching, there's an electric charge that doesn't disconnect, and just keeps running through your two bodies, feeding off itself to grow stronger.

Where a finger stroke is all it takes to completely void your mind of anything but the pulsating need to be filled. And a hand is brought to your neck, not bothering with a gentle caress but grasping on, hard, to bring your lips to the waiting pair, only momentarily shielding the tongue and teeth that now have you locked together.

And fabric rips, because you can't be bothered with buttons and zippers and propriety when your skin is this hungry. So nails find fresh, warm flesh, and lungs breathe in stolen air when they remember to function. You couldn't be untangled or properly identify which parts of what you're feeling are your own if you tried, but that doesn't matter for even a split second.

And you almost wince as you finally find the satiation you've been looking for - warm and hard and even better than you remembered. You feel more and more full, drop your hips lower into the sheets to raise them higher and feel it deeper...

So your knees are brought to your chin and your ankles are locked behind his neck before he even finishes sitting up. He leans down to you and his teeth find your bottom lip and pull and you breathe him in and for a moment make this stunning eye contact that bores into you somehow even deeper than he is, with you folded underneath him. You've lost agency of yourself to your desire and can't stop your hips from finding their rhythym with his. He pulls his head up as you thrust harder, and you swear you can feel it in your abdomen, but god is it fucking good. And so you raise your hips faster, and he matches your rhythym with increasing intensity.

Your nails dig into his thighs, and then you drag one hand up his body, shoving two fingers in his mouth. His teeth hold you tight as his tongue licks up and down and circles your fingers and you draw your hand out of his mouth still glistening with his spit. And without hesitation, your hand reaches between your legs, still clenched against his chest. He looks down at you as he fucks you harder and you rub yourself with your fingers, wet from him. His hand finds your neck, and he keeps staring into you as he tightens his grip. Your pulsing becomes more frenetic, raising your ass off his folded legs and slamming back into him harder and faster.

It starts there, as the muscles in your body tighten as the heat spreads from your pelvis to your thighs and abdomen, to your calves and your tits and your chest tightens as does his grip around your neck. Gasping and still holding eye contact, you can feel him slamming into you, harder and harder, filling what you both so desperately need. Finally, the heat spreads to your mouth, and you can't keep your eyes focused on this world as your toes curl and your entire body tightens itself around him, feeling him expand inside you, and everything just becomes heat and you don't know what you're saying but every part of your body is screaming at the same time, releasing everything it's been holding on to in one moment that rips through your body and tears into him, both of you lost to the need.

And everything you had been holding is gone, and neither of you can do anything but collapse onto one another, still unable to tell whose body belongs to whom. For just a minute, you lie there, quivering and afraid to touch but unable to disconnect. As your breathing slows to find its sync with his, you manage to look over at his face, shining with sweat but his eyes are bright and his cheeks are flushed. You manage a chuckle.

"Yeah, I missed you, too."

Coming back

I've been away for a long time. From this blog, but also from myself. I've been trying to balance the person I'm becoming with the person I was, with the person I want to be. And that's been hard.

But this morning, I feel like my old self again.

I remembered what it was like to wake up in the morning next to someone, memories of the night before still fresh in your mind. I remembered what it felt like to feel insatiable - that writhing, grasping, gasping mixture of pain and pleasure and desire and sweat all mixing to produce such a potent and poignant high that you can't focus on anything but the hands and mouth and skin roaming freely over your body.

And the fingers intertwined in dark hair, pulling my head back to bring exposed teeth to bite down on my neck, harder, harder, dear god please harder. And the growling, scratching, pulling as my hips move of their own accord toward what they clearly want and need fuck me please fuck I need you.

And the blue eyes staring into mine staring back - hungry, starving, for the escape of release. Or the open hand, brought to my neck and up towards my chin, just enough pressure to leave me gasping and dripping. And then back to a mouth on mine, biting, pulling at my lip, then slowly moving down past my collarbone, following my breath to my breasts, as a hand moves down to my hips, still pulsing methodically. So then the tongue follows and I have nothing left to fight with as the world closes in around me and we are all that exists. Until I finally can't take it anymore and you look up at me, smirking and content, and my head is spinning and my breath has left my body and all I can feel is you.

Or the sounds made as my hips move, circular, forward and back, up and down, my breathing in time, your sighs and moans and hands and body underneath me getting me higher and harder. The fingers pinching, scratching, taking a handful of my breast as another set finds its way to my pelvis, and my motions become more urgent. And then the hand on my face, pulling me down to your face as you whisper "bite me. scratch me. harder!" and then my hips move faster as our breathing gets harder and your hands on my hips gripping tighter until we finally collapse, exhausted and glistening and panting and very, very happy.

"Holy shit. We've gotten much better at that," I say.

What I need...

What I need right now is to hear your car pulling to a stop outside my house.

What I need is to hear the door slam as I race out the side door, across the yard and into your arms. I need to feel the wind across my skin and your arms at my waist as you pick me up, spinning me around, literally sweeping me off my feet.

What I need is to smell you as I press my body to yours, my face into your neck, so I can inhale you.

What I need is to take you by the hand and nearly trip over the patio step as we race in the side door to avoid distractions. I need to almost fall down the stairs and have you grab my hand to pull me back, then pin me against the wall at the landing, and with your body pressing into mine, kiss me so hard that my knees go weak and my mind is erased of everything but you. So that when you pull away, I nibble on my bottom lip and can't do anything but giggle and blush just a little. I need to fumble our way down the last of the stairs, and still be locked in a kiss with you as we find our way into my bedroom. 

I need you to slam the door shut behind you, never taking your hands off me. I need you to pin me against that door with your body again, your hands at my hips, lifting up my shirt. I need to feel that electric charge when your hands touch my skin. I need to feel those butterflies, that dizzy feeling I can't escape when your mouth is on mine. I need to feel breathless and fulfilled all at once and like I can't possibly be close enough to you.

I need to be grasping desperately at your belt, trying so hard not to be distracted by your mouth at my neck as my clumsy hands find the buckle, the button, the zipper. I need to be pushing the waist of your jeans off your slim hips as I feel your hands run up my torso, taking my tank top with them. 

I need to feel my self-consciousness slipping away as you step just an arm's length away to look at me, flushed and increasingly disheveled though I am, and smile - just the corners of your mouth, and your eyes flash that beautiful green I've been stuck imagining for entirely too long. 

I need to run my hands up your torso, bringing your shirt over your head and losing sight of it as soon as it leaves your body. I need to be tracing my fingers up and down your abdomen, around your pecs, and back to your hips, pulling you back to me.

I need to feel your warmth on my skin. I need to feel the contrast of your body, smooth and warm, against the door you still have me against, cool and unforgiving. 

I need to feel your hands at my jaw. I need to feel you pull me to you, slowly, intensely. I need to feel your kiss through my entire body. I need to feel your entire body pulse as you kiss me. I need to feel your lips on mine. I need to feel your tongue on mine. I need to feel you biting my bottom lip, pulling just the slightest on my lip ring.

I need to hear you sigh, contented and hungry, as you tighten your grip at my hips. I need to feel the momentum as you pull me away from the door and push me onto the bed. I need to shiver as your mouth traces delicate patterns down my body. I need to see you look up at me with those gorgeous eyes as you slide my jeans off my hips. I need to feel your hands up and down my legs, then your lips at my ankle, my calf, my knee, my thigh. 

I need to feel the breath, sharply inhaled into my lungs, as you bite at my hip. I need to hear you chuckle under your breath, like you know you already have me. And I need to throw my head back as your tongue starts exploring me.

I need to grasp at the sheets as your tongue finds my clit and your fingers curl themselves inside me. I need to whimper as I hear you moan into me, your tongue and fingers moving faster and in perfect discord. 

I need to see that white heat that flashes by my eyes as every muscle tenses, as I can't help but gasp out "Fuck!" when I can't feel anything but you and pleasure and love and everything. 

And, still shaking, I need to feel you kissing your way back up my stomach, my chest, my neck, until your body is back on top of mine. I need to feel your warmth and that electricity still humming between us. I need to see the smile on your face and in your eyes. I need your mouth on mine again. I need to kiss you so hard it almost hurts. 

I need to kiss you with everything I've got. I need to kiss you like it's the first time and the last time and every time inbetween. I need to pull away for just a moment, whisper out another breathless "fuck," and intertwine my fingers with yours. 

Yes, THAT'S what I need. 

Adventures in sexting

I've written before about how I'm kind of awkward trying to say anything coherent or sexy during sex. I don't do phone sex because I'm afraid of sounding like a cheesy porno. But sexting (or sex messaging)? That I can do. I posted a series of sext messages from The Scientist a month or so ago.

Well, because I'm a lucky girl, (and, who knows, maybe you all are lucky readers,) I have more super hot sext messages that I got permission to post. The Pilot sent these to me a few weeks ago. He was mentioning that he was proud of them, but didn't really know how to show them off. I, of course, willingly offered him a place to do so. He made an effort to keep each paragraph to the 160-character limit imposed by his phone, so I'll post them as such.

Which makes me think, perhaps we should start using Twitter to post erotica. Yesss... TwittErotica. Maybe this means I'll be getting a Twitter for this blog. We'll see. Not sure how many I can consecutively handle.

Anyway, without further ado, The Pilot's sext fantasy:

The sun still lights the sky from behind the mountains, casting a warm glow on your white-clad form as you cross the yard to meet me.

You're wearing the now-iconic dress and the heavy glass pendant but I'm more interested in the smiling lips and gorgeous dark eyes that are now radiant with joy.

You grab me in what must be the hardest embrace you can and whisper "I missed you" into my shoulder. "You too," I smile, pinned against the car

as I return the hug with equal intensity. "I hear there's free drinks downstairs..." I quip, and you smirkingly take the hint.

Your roommates know what's up and keep the greetings brief and in minutes I'm listening to the pavlovian click of your door being locked.

Not even a breath later, you're against the wall with my hand on your neck and my lips pressed to yours. After a long kiss, I let my hand slide down between

your perfect tits, ending with one finger on your chest. "Stay" I quietly command, and move your chair sideways. "What...?" you start to say, but I'm kissing

you again as I guide you to the chair. "Ohh." You smile coyly as you wriggle onto the arm, your hips moving suggestively to meet the wall behind you.

"I knew you'd figure it out" I say, and kneel in front of you, slowly running my hands up the insides of your legs coaxing them wider and pulling your dress

along for the ride. I narrowly miss the hot mound between them, teasing a desperate whimper out of you as I stop at your hips and dig my thumbs into the

secret buttons I know are hidden there. Gradually releasing pressure, I begin to slide back down your silky legs, this time "accidentally" hooking

my fingers into your panties. With a little cooperation on your part, they're soon sylistically complimenting the rug behind me- leaving your pussy deliciously exposed.

You're already wet, and I can feel the heat radiating from you long before my fingers touch your soft flesh. You let out a moan and hurredly fumble

with my pants. My belt thuds to the floor and we share a chuckle before lapsing back into heavy breathing. My pants and underwear join your panties,

and before I know it, your beautifully feminine hand is caressing my raging hardon. Conscious thought momentarily pauses and I find myself gripping your

neck to keep from falling over. You choke out a gasp and forget to jerk me off just long enough for me to refocus on you. I let your hot cunt go and move my

hand behind your hips, pulling them away from the wall and towards my desperately erect cock. Moving slowly closer, I move the hand at your neck down to my cock,

guiding the head to just barely touch your cunt. "Hey" I get your attention with a lustful kiss and your dark eyes lock mine as I slowly lean into you...

Inch by inch my cock disappears into your hot, lathered hole. The feeling of your muscles tightening around me makes me growl with pleasure and I have to catch

myself with your neck again. I want to stop for a moment, to savor the feeling, but your hips drive into me as your hands find their way to my taut ass,

pulling me into you. I pause for a second and you dig your nails in, forcing me deeper and making me squeeze your neck indignantly. Not that I can resist for long.

Our rhythms begin to sync; my hand behind your hips and your nails on my ass lock us together and I fall forward, biting your neck around my tightened hand.

By now we're both panting with animal lust, sweating and grinding against each other in the frantic throes of lovemaking that's been denied for months.

As the room shrinks to only you and I, I start to feel the rush of the impending explosion building at the base of my cock and my thrusts take on a new urgency.

I can tell you're as close as I am from the short, gasping breaths that you're stealing through the hand on your neck and the palpable pulsing of your cunt

muscles. It's finally too much and my whole body tenses as I shoot hot cum deep into your clenching, dripping cunt.

My hips thrust rythmically of their own accord, driving my pulsing cock as deep as it will go. I can feel you gripping me with every movement, encircling my

solid erection in slick, throbbing heat. Your own frantic motions drag a breathless "ohfuckohfuckOHFUCKFUCK...FUCK!!!" from your lips. Your back arches

and my skin burns behind your raking fingernails, proving without words that Oh yes, it WAS good for you. Our breath comes in ragged gasps and through the tingling

semi-blackout of our shared orgasm I am only dimly aware of the juices soaking both of us from the hips down. Breathing slows, muscles relax, and after a few

breaths, I slowly, languidly slide out of you, lingering with each tiny sensation of skin on cum-slicked skin. I smirk and murmur into your neck

"I think we're gonna need a towel." A euphoric "Ha!" is all you can manage before sighing deeply and slouching into my arms. "But first, let's do it again," I grin.

Polite conversation.

The details on how we got from pleasantries and polite conversation to that couch at 1 a.m. are a little fuzzy. I do remember that it involved a few bottles of wine, a "game for swingers" circa 1972 (disappointing), and hugs which increased in length as the night went on. And strip Twister. But all of that is irrelevant.

She and I were sitting on the couch, leaning on one another. One of the boys who had come over late was heading out, and she called him over to say goodbye. Which she did so with a kiss. And I followed suit. Then she and I looked at one another, and without saying anything, she pulled me to her. She kissed me with intent, but with that softness and sensuality that I often expect from women. The boy we had both been kissing vanished. Both because we stopped focusing on him, and, I've been told, because we pushed him off the couch...when she began kissing me harder and pressed my shoulders down onto the couch, with her seated on top of me. Her legs were on either side of my wide hips, and I remember distinctly seeing her sitting up for a moment, so I could see her gorgeous curves fully.

She bent down to kiss me again, seeming hungry this time. I had just a moment to breathe while she moved her mouth to my neck and began kissing down my collarbone. Her movements were full of intent and, from what I could tell, honest desire. She moved her mouth, her tongue, from my collarbone to my neck, down between my breasts and back again. I was vaguely aware of the fact that we were still both clad in just jeans and bras, passionately making out on The Scientist's couch, in his living room full of people.

I was more aware of it when I heard The Scientist call out "Hey, you should try biting her! She really likes it!" I was about to flip him off when I felt her teeth close down, hard and close to one another, just above the line of my bra. I yelped in what might be the girliest noise I've ever made. She paid no mind to my whimpers, and continued biting and kissing my chest, neck and collarbone. I wrangled my hands free from hers and brought her face back to mine, my hand on her chin. I kissed her deeply, and as she pulled away, I felt her nibble on my lip, pulling it just slightly by the lip ring. As she bent down to go back to work on my neck, I pulled her up to me again. "I can't do this... not in front of an audience," I managed, between kisses.

"OK!" She chirped. In one fluid motion, she had righted herself, had me by the hand, and was pulling me up the stairs, two steps at a time. I think she said something to the group of people saying "awww" as we ran up the stairs. Into The Scientist's room, where she tightly shut the door. And tackled me onto the bed.

This time, I was more prepared. She tried to tackle me, and after some light wrestling, I managed to pin her down on the far side of the bed. I kept both her hands above her head with mine, and leaned in to kiss her again. She was a delicious kisser. And downstairs had been so hectic and caught me so by surprise that I was looking forward to the opportunity to properly appreciate her in all of her feminine beauty. From my position straddling her, I could admire the view: Her long dark hair was tousled about her head in that sexy bed-head way you think only exists in movies; Her face was delicate without making her seem breakable, and her dark eyes were smoldering, even behind her squared, black-framed glasses; Her collarbone showed just enough shadow to perfectly accent and draw my eyes towards her beautiful, ample cleavage. As difficult as it was to pull my eyes away from her gorgeous tits, I followed her soft, smooth skin down to her navel, pierced with a glittering piece of jewelry. Her shape pulled in deliciously at her waist, flowing out again to accommodate her full hips. I marveled for a moment more at her stunning hourglass figure (hidden earlier in the evening by a hoodie), then desperately wanted more. I let my hands slide from hers as I leaned down to kiss her again.

Now it was my turn to aggressively kiss her, biting on her bottom lip, and I couldn't keep my hands off her skin any longer. As we kissed, my hands roamed down to her chest and her waist, sometimes holding on to her hips. It wasn't long before my lips followed, and I took one breast in my hand, pushing her bra out of the way as I brought my lips to her nipple. I heard her gasp and felt her hips rise to meet mine as I sucked and fondled. The noises she made were, quite simply, delicious. I wanted to hear more of them.

Instead, I heard a knock on the door...

Being alone

Can sometimes be a really fabulous thing. At least for short periods of time. Tonight, for the first time in over a month, I have the room to myself. My roommate is out at a concert, and I have no plans. No date. Well, except the one I decided to make with myself. After dinner, I hopped in the shower, and took my time, finally.

Turning the hot water all the way up, letting it run down my skin, feeling every drop as it fell down, cheek to collarbone, traced a line between my breasts and gathered near my navel, where it split into two rivers, leading down to each hip bone. From there, the water ran down my thighs, wrapping circles around my calves and finally forming a puddle as it fell off the bony part of my ankle.

And then I imagined your tongue tracing a line back up where that water was falling. Taking my foot like some scene from Cinderella, and leaving kisses up my legs, my toes pointed like a ballerina. And as you moved up my leg, you'd look up at me with that mischievous look I love so much, and I'd be reminded how fantastic you look with water running down your body. You stopped at my hips, to nibble along the bone, keeping your hands firm around my waist because you knew my knees would go weak as soon as your teeth met my skin. Your smirk turned to a blatant grin as I whimpered and leaned back against the wall for more support.

You took this as an invitation, and raised yourself from your knees, letting me look at your glorious shape in full. Jesus, you're beautiful. You brought your hands to my chin as you stepped towards me. I knew what was coming, and my stomach was still in knots. You kept your eyes locked on mine until I tried to look away, feeling the connection almost too well. Instead of letting me turn my head, you kissed me. Deeply. Exploring my mouth with your tongue and coaxing mine into yours. Again, my knees went weak. You wrapped your hands around my back and leaned into me, fully pinning me against the wall. The cold tile on my back combined with your still-wet warmth along my torso left me shivering as I melted into you.

"Maybe we should get out of here," you suggested. You knew I couldn't conjure any coherent thought, so I just nodded and grabbed a towel for each of us as you turned off the water. We opened the door and the steam flowed out - only half of it from the hot water. We raced to the bedroom like teenagers afraid to get caught sneaking around. We tripped over each other as we tried to close the door behind us and landed on top of one another. Well, you on top of me, really. You smiled like you planned it this way all along. And maybe you did. I wouldn't put it past you. You kissed me again, as both of us were smiling. Knowing full well you had the advantage, you took the chance and in one swift movement, rid me of my towel. "You won't be needing this," you assured me.

Keeping your body on top of mine, you filled your hands with my breasts and buried your face in my neck. If I had any thought of trying to get up, you banished it at that moment. Again, you traced the same path your mouth had taken in the shower, but this time in reverse. I reached down to run my hands through your hair, and you pulled your head up from my skin, scolding me. In one fluid motion, you had pinned my hands above my head. I took a deep breath and moved a little farther from this plane of existence.

You spent more time biting at my hips, I consequently writhing underneath you, whimpering from time to time. Suddenly, I felt pressure on my clit - vibrating slowly, and as I melted even further, I heard you growl "Oh, is that where you like that?" You knew I couldn't answer in any way but to nod. "That's what I thought."

I love when you talk to me like that. I can't manage to do it myself, but hearing you tell me what I like, and how I belong to you and will do exactly what you tell me to, just reminds me of how true all those things are and how much I enjoy that fact.

You kept growling, keeping your hand at my clit, keeping me tantalizingly close. And of course, you knew when I was, and would chuckle and tell me I wasn't getting off so easily. Had I been more cognizant, I would have laughed, too, at the pun. Instead, you filled my mouth, and I almost lost control. I knew I had to ask your permission, and I knew I wouldn't get it, but having a part of you inside of me pushed me so close to the edge that I started shaking. You knew I couldn't hold out much longer, but kept torturing me. When you'd feel my body tense, you'd pull away the vibrator, seeming to revel in the change in my breathing it caused and my increasing desperation. Finally, you aligned your body with mine and thrust into me, digging your nails into my skin. I arched my back with the brilliant pain caused by having you so deep and fully inside me.

You moved your hips in that way that only you can, where it feels like you're not moving while at the same time rocking my entire body. I felt you through every nerve in my body, and as you brought the vibrator back to my clit, my body took over. My hips bucked off the bed and into you, my nails dug into your back and I lost sight of everything around me except you. My body tensed around you and all at once released and I couldn't help but gasp and pull you closer. I needed to be closer to you than physically possible.

As my body settled, you looked at me - and I couldn't tell if the dampness on your forehead was from your still-wet hair or a fine layer of sweat. Your eyes flashed. "You didn't think we were done, did you?" I felt you start fucking me again. Harder this time, with more urgency. You whispered more filthy things to me and I wrapped my legs around you, impressed that I could still move them after the putty you'd just turned me into. I sunk my teeth into your shoulder, and that soft spot just behind your collarbone. You thrust harder. I felt your body tense and felt mine start to do the same. I rocked my hips into you and realized we were both panting, almost in unison. Every muscle in my body was tight, waiting for you to push me over the edge. Then you came, with a chorus of profanities. Feeling you let go, I couldn't hold on any more, and joined you, nearly screaming as wave after wave hit me. I don't know how long we stayed like that, rocking, breathing, existing in unison.

Slowly, we came back down, you still on top of me, head resting on my chest. A tiny aftershock ran down my spine and I shivered. You raised your head to look at me, smiling. Your eyes were less intense, now; So much energy had been spent between us that I could still feel it buzzing in the air.

I stayed like that, thinking of you as I drifted off to sleep, and wishing you'd been there with me for what we just had.

Worth the wait. (pt.1)

It was a boy’s night. Not so much in the no-girls-allowed sense, but in the sense that everyone else there had known each other since childhood, and so my familiarity with them since high school paled in comparison. The night started out with the three of us going out for our first legal drink as a group. Not that we hadn’t been 21, but just that we hadn’t been 21 and all together in one place ever before. So we went to our favorite pub and sat at our favorite table and all flirted with our favorite waitress. I’d forgotten that the boys can’t hold their liquor, so three beers in, they were giggling and trying to maintain their balance on the barstools while I realized I’d become the designated driver. We paid our insanely cheap tab (god bless $2 you-call-its) and filed out the door and into the night air that was that perfect temperature where you can’t feel its presence on your skin.

We laughed as we ran across the middle of the state’s busiest street to get back to the Jeep A had been driving, and he tossed me the keys. Without discussing it, A took the passenger side and relegated J to the back seat. I realized I didn’t need to adjust the seat and J made some comment about A and I being basically the same size, which I thought was funny for some reason. I checked the mirrors and pulled out into the bustling night while A fiddled with the radio because I couldn’t figure it out. Something came on and A and I started singing (which might have been an indicator that I really shouldn’t have been driving, since I don’t sing in public anymore, and especially not in front of people like A, who is one of the most talented musicians I’ve had the pleasure of meeting). J said someone sounded off-key and I immediately clammed up and took the blame. He chuckled and said no, it sounded like it was A. A was too drunk to take offense.

As I made a concerted effort to stay within the striped white lines, we made our way to pick up D, who I hadn’t seen in years. We pulled up to the field and he appeared over a hill and climbed into the back seat with J. There were greetings all around, and we confirmed that we needed to swing by the liquor store before making our way back to A’s. Yes, more liquor is what we needed.

After waiting entirely too long for A to go in to the store and pick up a 12-pack, he bounced back into the car and I drove us the rest of the short distance back to his house. It felt good to be going there again, especially since I was driving and, as silly as it seemed, I felt like it made me important, like it made me part of something. Part of them, I guess. And in any case, I was sure any lingering awkwardness I felt about being the only girl in the house and the “newbie” (although I’d known them all for six years) could easily be drunk away with a few of the margaritas A had promised me when we got back to his house.

We quickly made ourselves comfortable on the back patio, half-covered, but still big enough to see the gorgeous and clear night sky. The four of us sat around, drinking and chatting. A sat across from me on a bench with D, and I tried not to stare. After all, I’d been staring and flirting for years, and it had gotten me precisely nowhere. A made-up bed downstairs in a room to myself. That’s how close to him I’d ever gotten. (Which is only partially true. When he used to stay at my house, he’d sleep in my bed, and there had been moment, like when we'd wake up next to each other and talk about art and literature and music for hours still lying in bed... but that was all.) I was another margarita and a half into the night, and not staring was getting progressively harder. He went back inside to get another beer for himself, and took the long way so he could come by me. Standing behind my chair, he put his hands on my shoulders, and I tilted my head straight back to be able to look at him. He rubbed my shoulders, said something innocent and furiously innocuous. Smiled at me and went inside.

Then the boys decided they wanted to smoke. I don't smoke. Well, I say that and what I really mean is I don't make a habit of it. It's taken me a long time to get over some trust issues that came about from a time when I was terribly stoned and made to do something I didn't want to do. So I only smoke with people I trust.

But no one had a pipe. So A went inside to get an apple so someone could make one. I still don't understand how that works, but I know that as he walked back outside and handed the apple to J, he came by my chair again and ran his fingers through my hair, tied up in a messy bun. J had finished the pipe, and loaded the greens. I think they gave them to me, since they were all surprised I was willing to smoke. In all honesty, I'd been having a good night, and the margaritas weren't doing the trick, so I wanted to keep the energy going.

And did it ever work, holy shit. Shortly after we'd finished with the apple, D brought out his guitar. And then A took it from him and started playing. It wasn't a song, really, just freestyle. But the combination of the booze, and the weed, and sound coming from A's fingers as he strummed and picked and pressed, and watching him sway with the music, I was lifted out of my body in the most euphoric feeling I've felt in a LONG time. I couldn't take my eyes off him if I tried. Not that I bothered. There was another one of those moments. He lifted his eyes from the instrument, without missing a note, and met my stare. Neither of us flinched. Just looked into each other. I shivered in the 60 degree weather and took a deep breath as I drafted my eyes downward.

The next few hours were a blur. We all had a few more drinks, made a 1 a.m. breakfast. J passed out on the couch. D decided he wanted to ride A's bike home (which was a solid 5-10 miles). A was all too happy to oblige. With both of the others out, A and I started doing dishes from the breakfast. A was washing and I was... collecting things and bringing them to him? I don't remember. I do remember thinking I was about to suggest going into the hot tub, but thinking better of it. Don't want to seem overeager. And after all, not 24 hours early, I'd told my friend that I'd given up on A. I was sticking to it. He was just drunk and being courteous earlier. He always is. Courteous, that is. Not drunk. A had something like one more dish to finish washing, so I wandered back out to the patio.

The night was crisp and had cooled just slightly, so the air brushed against my skin, and for the first time I thought it was silly that I was wearing a tank top. I looked up and realized the moon was resting just above the house - white and radiant and full. The blue-black sky was lit up with stars, and I'd forgotten that just a mile outside the city, you can actually see the stars. I stretched my legs out in front of me and leaned back on my arms. Inhaled the cool night air and just...existed. And then I heard his footsteps come around the corner.
"S? Are you out here?"
"Yeah, right here A."
"What'cha doing?"
"Oh, nothing. Looking at the moon."
"Can I join you?"
"Of course!"
He sat next to me on the ground and crossed an arm over mine, sitting in the same position I was. For several minutes, we didn't say anything. I stole glances at him from the corner of my eye, turning my attention back to the sky whenever I thought he was looking. And I swear, more than once, I felt him do the same. Finally, as I glanced his direction once again, I was met full-on by his blue eyes looking at me. Not looking away. I decided to see if I could play this game. His eyes pierced through me and I felt that shiver return at the base of my spine. He spoke under his breath, not to me. "Yeah, I have to do this."

I didn't have time to process what he'd said. He brought his hand to my cheek and pulled my face to his. Placed his lips on mine, gently. Then with a little more force. Bit my lip just the tiniest. It was perfect. And sweet. And sensual. And literally took my breath away. As he pulled away, I couldn't catch my breath (even as I write this, I have to remember to breathe). I was completely speechless. I think I stammered out something like "..wow..." or, more likely, under my own breath, "holy shit."
As I looked at him, I'm sure with total shock on my face, he just smiled calmly at me. Smirking just the slightest. And then he pulled me back in and kissed me again.

M

The tension had been building for hours. Weeks. Years, if we were being honest. But for the moment we sat on the couch, legs lined up against one another, M trying to hold my hand, me brushing him off. Again. And again. And then the door opened, shooting light across the darkened living room where we were pretending to watch a movie. My heart stopped as I realized there were people coming in the room. We were fully clothed and behaving like well-mannered adults, but I hadn't planned on being introduced to anyone.
I shot M a look that I hoped might kill him. He shrugged it off with a smile. That damn, disarming smile. I stood up, shook hands with the people coming in the house. They asked if we'd go out to pick up Chinese food. I said I wasn't hungry. I was needing a ride home in 30 minutes. But I'd go with him to pick up the food, provided he'd drive me home straight after.

The food was ready when we got there. As we walked back to the car, I could feel him looking at me. As we climbed in, he set the food on the floor by my feet. Put the keys in the ignition. And didn't start the car. Instead he just looked at me. Reached his hand up behind my head and pulled me into him. His kiss was soft. And more aggressive than I'd remembered. He'd grown up.
I pulled away a little dazed, made some comment that escapes me now, told him we really should be getting back. He quipped right back at me - yes, he was learning.

Now it was our turn to blast the living room with obtrusive sunlight as we entered the house. He set the food on the table, started to unpack it as I stood nearby. Awkwardly. They asked me again if I was hungry, and I again turned them down. M looked at me and I could see some kind of fire behind his eyes as he absentmindedly set the Orange Chicken on the table and led me down the hallway to his bedroom.

I'd been there briefly before. Innocently. He shut the door behind him, eyes still locked on me. As he walked toward me I instinctively backed up - which was exactly what he wanted. The back of my knees hit the bed and I had nowhere else to go. M closed in on me, pressing the length of his body against mine, putting one hand on my waist and wrapping the other in my long, dark hair. He pressed his lips to mine again and I tried to protest through his kisses, my arguments muffled by his lips, teeth, and tongue.

"There are people in the next room. I can't." I'd say.

He'd pull back, look at me, let me think he was considering my request. "Shut. Up."

And then he'd descend on me again, pressing against me and hoping to catch me off balance to tackle me onto the bed and into submission.

I stood fast. "I can't." I shook my head. He bit my neck. "Really, I... I just can't."

"You know, every time you say that, you're just making it worse on yourself."

"Is that so? I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't."

And with that he shoved me onto the bed, without his hands leaving my body for a second. I threw my shoulders against the mattress, trying to "escape." He grabbed both my hands in one of his and pinned them above my head, his body on top of mine keeping me still.
"I said, quit fighting it. You know you want to."

I stuck out my tongue. Turned my head away when he tried to kiss me. Moved my body underneath his, all trying to wriggle free of his grip.

"Well, looks like we need something stronger to hold you, now, don't we?"

My eyes must have flashed, because a smirk fell over his face. "Right, will you stay there if I get up for just a second?" I shook my head yes for the first time that evening. My breathing was getting heavier, and I could feel my face flushing. The world was shrinking down to encompass only this room. He put on some kind of music - what kind I don't remember - and asked me "Leather or silk?"

I shot up in bed. "Really, you have to ask? Fuck silk."

He smiled with just a hint of evil and replied "Oh good."

He approached the bed with two heavy leather belts and threaded the first one to the top right post of his bed which I was just realizing was a four-poster. He climbed on top of the bed, on top of me, his legs framing my hips. He grabbed my right wrist - HARD - and cinched the belt around it. With another pull, he had my left wrist fixed to the opposite post. My arms fully extended, I realized I couldn't loosen the pressure as the leather started digging into my skin deliciously.

M pulled away from me and surveyed what was in front of him: Me, arms tied to his bedpost, topless, helpless, and panting. I got the feeling he'd been waiting for this. He examined his handywork already showing on my neck and collarbone and brought his lips to mine again. He kissed me deep and slow and I felt his hands run the length of my body, thankful to be free of having to hold me down. His lips and tongue and teeth soon followed, bringing soft whimpers from me as he bit at my tits, stomach, and hips. As his mouth reached the waist of my pants, he looked up at me with eyes aflame before unbuttoning each of the five buttons with his teeth. Then, as though that had taken too long, he seemed to claw at the waistband, unable to get them off me fast enough.

By then I was in some kind of daze, still in shock at the entire situation. At the ridiculous notion that here I was, lying in M's bed, by now stark raving naked, tied to the bed and at his mercy.

Until I was brought screeching back to the here and now (or the then and there, as the case may be) by the sensation of his tongue exploring new areas of my body in ways they hadn't been explored. His licking, sucking, kissing, combined with one, no two, no, ohgod three fingers reaching inside me left me breathless, biting my lip, hips bucking into him and every muscle in my body tensing tight, tighter, tightertightest holyfuckohmygodohshit.

Deep breaths. The flashes of whitehot light begin to subside and I was barely conscious of my surroundings. He was still at my hips, looking up at me proudly and I reached to cradle his face in my hands until I realize... they're still tied.

He saw me do this and smiled again as he started to unbutton his own pants, revealing the hard cock I'd yet to see. The corners of my mouth curled as he said "All right, now it's my turn." He didn't even need to get off the bed as he reached into his dresser for a condom, ripped it open and rolled it on. I had hoped maybe he'd start slow, let me warm up again as I came back down. He had other ideas.

He came down upon me, sinking his teeth into my neck hard enough to make me wince at exactly the moment he thrust himself into me, hard and full. Before I could cry out, he pushed his tongue into my mouth with the same force he was still exerting on the rest of my body. His body seemed to be hovering above mine, save for where we were connected. He twisted and turned by body to appeal to his whim. I was his plaything - through to the end.

And by that end, I was covered in sweat and bruises and him. I was hot and sticky and exhausted and perfectly content. Somehow it didn't matter anymore that it was three hours later than when I was supposed to have been home. I'd gotten my ass kicked and loved every second of it.


(this may take some revising, but I promised its participant I'd post it and I've taken long enough to do so. I hope it was worth the wait, sugar.)

(you're only) the best I ever had

How many years have we been doing this, now?
Where every time it is the same
And still so strikingly new
Fascinating
Exhilirating
Heartbreaking.
We always speak in hypotheticals
Like we don't know exactly where we'll end up
Tangled in each other
Panting
Heaving
Exhausted
And breathless.
So I'll start by saying

Maybe I'll be surprised and smile when my phone registers your name - perhaps the name only I call you and only half in jest - and you might ask if I'm back in town. I'll be glad you can't see me grinning all too wide as I write you back a coy reply.
And then maybe in the morning I'll wake you and offer smoothies and our favorite DVDs and we'll pretend that's all that's on the menu. You might be more excited to see me than I anticipated and take me into your arms with more force than I'd expected. Then perhaps I'd smile as I revel in your warmth for just a moment before we shuffle downstairs, maybe already engaged in the banter we both know we love. And then perhaps we'd settle into the couch like we always do, and I'd place my hand on the few inches of sofa between us and you'd absentmindedly intertwine your fingers with mine and pretend you don't notice my breathing change at the slightest touch of your skin on mine. Of course maybe our favorite show was really just a front that we both knew we didn't need, and it's somehow ironic that we still go through these motions. At the same time, perhaps its unyieldingly romantic, as is so much of what you do, often, it seems, without even realizing it. And maybe we'd smile at each other and linger just a moment too long, and you'd turn to look at me and feel my eyes drinking up the very sight of you. And perhaps you'd take your hand and brush the hair away from my face and match my stare, slowly pulling me to you. Then suddenly your lips are on mine and I am on fire and so acutely aware of everything while at the same time oblivious to anything but the way you make me feel.
And then you would descend on me, putting me squarely against the couch, carelessly sending anything in your way crashing to the floor. You don't care if its breakable, it needs to be on the floor while you use the surface. And hypothetically,:the passion with which you would seem to tear my clothes from my body would surpass any worldly boundaries.
I'd gasp, deep, and slide away from you for only a moment as I'd turn my body to bring myself on top of you, holding your hands above your head as my mouth makes its way down your body to your neck, your chest, your abs and your waist, where my teeth will leave barely-perceptible marks and you'll start breathing harder and harder.
Of course, you wouldn't let me hold you for long. As I am tracing my tongue, my lips, my teeth around your torso, you'd abruptly roll me over onto my back and pin me down, strong hands dwarfing mine which seem so exceedingly feminine in the moment. You might suck and bite at my skin, paying special attention to my neck and stomach. Maybe flick your tongue across my hipbones, just for a taste. Your hands might tremble in a futile attempt to be gentle because you've always looked at my naked body like a piece of art, but you'd have to release my hands to let yours have the experience they so crave.
You might then give in and let them rub my body, as your mouth follows, exploring every curve and reveling in the sounds you are pulling from me. You'd tease me with your tongue, and I'll remember when you used to tell me how you so enjoyed my taste, and were so saddened when it left your mouth. Perhaps you want to try it again.
And I am so blissfully aware of your breath, your skin, you... on me that I am like putty in your hands and am aching to be part of you. I might pull you up to me and remember how I've always loved the way your dark eyes looked at me and really saw me. But in this moment I'd look to see if you were feeling as good as I am and remind you that you love the way I move my hips... any maybe all the while I'm clawing and biting into you because I just need that much of you.
And perhaps we would have long ago abandoned silence, me for my gasps, sighs and inaudible expletives, you for low, gutteral moans and heavy breaths and dominating commands. Even as you invite my tongue into your mouth once again with yours, my name escapes your lips as I raise my hips to meet yours and match your movement. Your hands would probably already be enjoying themselves, running down my sides, over and around my thighs, up my stomach and over my breasts. And you couldn't help but be enthusiastic when, even as you push into me, your back folds in half as you taste my skin again. You would make sure I broke a sweat, if for no other reason than to have the pleasure of sucking up the single drops running down my neck and between my breasts.
And so there I'd be, my legs wrapped around you and your arms around me and again you'd sweep the stray hair from my face and I would run my tongue over your lips as I pull you deeper into me. And then perhaps you'd find me guiding your hand from my chest, to my waist, to my hips, to my navel and further down as I'd beg you to throw yourself into me. And there would be no hope for subtlety as I continue to rock my hips with yours and my lips and teeth find your collarbone once more and you inhale and sigh in that way I love where I know you're happy and are incapable of being anything else.
And if you might be being the submissive type, you'd obey my every command - though I'd never need words - but all the while you'd take pleasure in making me stumble as our hips match up and your hand finds a way to stimulate me no matter where you put it, though it will inevitably find its way everywhere else on my body that I could possibly reach. Pressing against you, sweat-drenched bodies rubbing together and moaning explitives in that sort of raw pleasure that comes with making love without worrying about where or how, only caring about the who and the now.
And you would know that I love you listening to me, while at the same time we both know you needn't because our passion is instinctual and we've never needed instructions for one another's pleasure. So you'd push me down beneath you because there's nothing like feeling you on top of me and seeing your face and feeling you move inside of me. By now I'd have so little control over my hips - they're so desperately seeking yours that my whole body is yours to do with whatever you could want. Nevertheless I know completely what you want, because what you want and what I need are the same in this moment. And maybe once you've laid me down and your hands are still finding their way all over me, mine have not left your skin since the moment they discovered you. In that moment I'm watching you so intently and feeling you so completely; we are moving perfectly together and I can watch your face and you can feel me tighten around you like my arms invariably will, time and time again...
You wouldn't let me up for a second, as you refuse to let me forget how much you enjoy being pressed against me and I against you. Bodies move and tremble, hips rock away from each other only to press back against one another even more passionately, as if our whole body kisses in the way you would kiss me. Desperate to be one person, emotion and sensation would take over. The craving for pleasure would drive movement and reason and two people find themselves the mechanism for their bodies' will, as the bodies know they fit perfectly together, and enjoy the comfort of a match.
And as we'd move perfectly in unison, blissfully ignorant of the world around us, that world would stop and we would be the only motion that mattered. As heat rips through my body I can do nothing but cry out and pull you into me, needing you to be as integral a part of my body as you are of my heart. My eyes have turned a dark emerald and your breathing has become more frantic as your teeth sink into my skin and you let out a primal scream. Your body spasms and I am one with you entirely, and even the after-shock leaves us shuddering in unison.
Then we would lie there, tangled in one other. Panting, sweating, heaving, exhausted and breathless. And we would sleep, both of us too content to move outside each other, or this space, or this moment.

*With collaboration from my dearest A. (he didn't know I'd be writing it here, but he helped with the words, the memories, the experiences...)

"you do this thing..."

"... with your eyes..."
What do you mean?
"It's just.. you stare at me. Like through me. It's really intense."
Oh, I'm sorry.
"No, I love it."

And with those few words my mind is sent racing back to the night before. How she was mad at me for taking too long getting ready. And how glad I was to see you at dinner. Wearing a hat pulled down over your still-long hair and cocked over one eye so I could just catch a glimpse of that rich brown with the fire behind it as you looked me up and down walking in the door. I said I was dressed up for the holiday, you knew better. You knew it was for you. The dark jeans, flared at the bottom and hugging my ass at the top, my favorite purple and grey high heels, the brand new silver halter top with a neckline cut down to there. You give me a half smile from beneath your hat and I forget everyone else in the crowded restaurant.

Until you look away and I remember we're out with friends and that means we have to be discreet. Because you say so. Still, as I slide into the corner seat on the booth, you quickly take the spot next to me. You fumble with your jacket and look at me and I smile, of course I'll take it. Our friends order drinks. You don't because you don't drink and I don't because I don't have anything that says I'm of age. So we order dinner and it takes a while but the waiter is quick with our drinks. We all laugh and my fears that this group would be awkward dissolve as everyone settles in for dinner. There are a few moments where I let my hand drop to the booth and brush your knee, knowing you can't help but flinch. You swat my hand away.
I go back to flirting with the person across the table.You notice. Especially when I reach across and say "oh, for that you owe me some of that mojito!" and there's no protest as we linger just a split second too long for comfort.
She's not mad at me anymore and asks me to join her for a cigarette. I don't realize we're going outside so I don't grab my coat and when I ask you to pass me mine, you hand me yours. There's another splitsecond moment where your hands touch mine and you flash me just the hint of a smile and I'm sure my cheeks flush. I slip my arms through the sleeves and pull the sides tight around me, happy to be enveloped in your warmth and the scent of you while we are out in the open.
Flash forward two hours and we're sitting on a couch, closer than we need to be, since the group has thinned to just five of us. But still, now in this more relaxed place, while the rest of us are drinking - and you're sipping the sparkling cider we got you - your hand goes to the small of my back just to remind me you're there. As if I could forget.
We play cards and we all laugh at the half-and-more naked men pictured there. Then suddenly, there are three minutes left. We all have champagne and someone suggests we go each say what we have planned. He says he's going to focus on his music. He says he's going to get all A's. She says she's going to get into business school. I say I'm going to finally get that job at the magazine. We come to you and you say you're going to stop dating crazy people and find someone who makes you happy. We all pause for just a moment. Then we cheer and I yell hell yeah! and you smile and... take a sip of my champagne. Which makes us cheer louder. And you smile broader. You seem happy and that makes me even happier.
Then it's 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1!!!
We all yell and clink out glasses and I look to you and wonder if you're...
before I can finish thinking it, you pull me in and kiss me and I'm shocked realizing you just did that and there were people standing right next to us. And then I can't stop smiling. You look pleased with yourself.
You're driving me back to your house which is beautiful and not really your space but I love when we have it to ourselves because you're different when it's just us. You start kissing me in the kitchen and I throw my arms around your neck and the only thing I can focus on is your lips on mine, your hands around my waist, cradling my face, taking my hands and leading me upstairs.
The next several hours are a blur, but at the same time crystal clear. I don't remember who undressed whom first, but I remember you approaching me, kissing me hard and pinning me to your bed. I remember kissing back fervently, needing you because I'd been out of your arms, your bed, your life, for too long. I remember you leaning over me, pinning my hands above my head and smiling as I pretend I want to get away. And burying your face in my neck and licking the sweat just starting to form on my collarbone, my chest, my hips. I remember your gasps and every sound you made when I bit down hard like I know you like. I don't remember what you were doing when I dug my nails into your back, but I remember the flash of heat, passion, in your eyes when I did so.
And maybe that's why you remember my eyes. I couldn't take them off you. Intense? I suppose. I remember moments when all I could do was look at you, really see you, and everything I know about you, everything you know about me, everything we have been and everything we will be, was all there in your eyes. I can't describe it well enough or even start to do it justice but know that those moments are my most vivid memories of any from my somewhat recent past. They aren't fading with time.
And, truth be told, I'm counting the days until I see you again. Your smile. Your eyes. Your bed. You.

The Reunion (Part II)

Perfect body, perfect smile
Your touch renders me servile
I love the way you speak to me
So sweet yet obscene...
I'm addicted and
You'd agree
I crave you endlessly
And I feel useful on my knees
I take comfort at your feet...

I never take my eyes off you as I do what I'm told. Your eyes scan down my body as I peel off my tank top and hastily unbutton the dark jeans hugging my hips. I step out of them and am left standing in front of you, simple black bra lifting my tits to create the closest I can come to subtle cleavage, and my favorite lace underwear hugging my now exposed hips, where I know your hands and mouth will be not soon enough. And the heels. There's no way I could meet your kiss without the support of some kind of stiletto and standing there they bring out the tone in my calves and accentuate the femininity. My soft curves stand in sharp contrast to your defined lines along your shoulders, pecs, abs and arms. I can't get enough of the strength you exude every time I look your direction.
You look at me, still standing in my bra and underwear, and I don't wait for you to tell me to get rid of those, too. The appearance I spent so long preparing has been reduced to a pile next to me and I am entirely exposed. Except for the heels. We both know they're better left on.
I look at you, waiting for your next move, and like you read my thoughts you are upon me, your teeth once again on my neck, and I'm suddenly very aware that I'll be wearing my hair down for the next week so no one asks question. After eliciting a few more sighs and whimpers from me, you shove me back and down on the bed and take to your luggage. I had wondered why you'd brought so much. Sure, it's obvious now, but that doesn't even start to cover it. You reach in and pull out from the very top of the bag - almost like you packed it knowing what you were doing - a broad, long strip of black fabric. You climb onto the bed and then onto me, pinning my hands as you kiss me again. You stare down at me and I look back at you hard, knowing I'll be deprived of the sight of you for however long you keep me that way. I notice your eyes are darker than they usually are, and I'm already shaking in anticipation.
You tie the blindfold tight around the back of my head, already tangled in my hair. You ask if you can trust me to behave myself momentarily and I smile. You know you can for this moment, and then that's it. In case you forget, as soon as I feel your body leave the bed, I sit up and playfully start to remove the blindfold. Before I can untie the knot, the weight of your body is on me again and you have stolen my hands above my head and I feel a cord tightening around my wrists as you bring them together. It's not rough, but it's not smooth, either, and you keep tightening it until I clench my hands, begging you not to go any tighter. You must tie some kind of knot, because I feel the loose ends smack against my forearms as you throw my hands down above my head.
Unable to see you and now, unable to feel you with my palms, you must know by now how badly I'm aching for you. You must know because you take your time, and I can feel you standing over me, beside me. I can feel you staring at me as I lie on the bed with nothing covering me but the ropes at my wrists. Minutes pass like hours which are probably only seconds, but the wait is killing me and I'm starting to breathe heavier just waiting for you to touch me.
Then I choke on my own breath as you bite down - hard - on my nipples and it's everything I can do not to scream and I try to bring my hands to pull you off me and of course, it's no good. You've done your job well.
Just as suddenly, you have moved motionlessly to my hip bones, and as you bite harder and harder, I can't help but buck towards you and I'm so glad you haven't silenced me yet, because I have to start begging.
"Please, oh dear god, please fuck me!"
You chuckle and tell me you thought I'd hold out longer. You're disappointed.
I whimper, because I know I shouldn't have spoken. Now you're going to take it out on me. At least, I can hope you are.
I don't feel you on the bed anymore and I crane my head to try to hear what you're doing. It's some kind of rustling, and I can't make out the sound but that moment I feel you climb back on the bed and then you're on me again, one of your bare legs between mine. You lower your body on to mine and I sense a calmness in you as I feel your breath on my shoulder, my neck, my cheek. You kiss me. Slow, long, deep. I smile and exhale slowly as you pull your lips from mine and bring them next to my ear.
"You ready to do as I say?" you ask me, half-crooning, half-growling.
"Oh, yes sir."
"That's more like it."

The Reunion (Part I)

I can see you walking in and can't ignore that look in your eye. So far beyond mischief; I know you've long ago undressed me with your eyes and your mind is already racing with the things you plan to do to me. I stand to greet you and my feet make the floorboards creak as I hurry to the door to be closer to you. You don't bother waiting until I'm closer than arm's reach before I feel your hands tighten around my biceps, almost too tight as you pull me in to you. Your tongue forces its way past my lips and searches for a partner. It finds one in mine, and the soft, damp warmth of your mouth is dangerously inviting.
Moments ago my feet left the ground as you brought me, hard, against the wall, your tongue now leading your whole body pushing into me. Your kiss becomes more frantic as you introduce your teeth to my lips, my lip ring, my neck, my collarbone, that soft spot between the two and I can't help but cry out. You stop momentarily to look at me, straight, hard, boring through me and your smirk betrays your thoughts. But before I can reciprocate you have me turned around, my face flushed and warm, pressed relentlessly against the cold wall.
You are everywhere at once. You hold my hands above me against the wall with one of your own, dwarfing my delicately manicured fingers with your rough, short fingernails and the strong palms attached to them. Your free hand makes its way behind my head, sweeps the hair off my neck and suddenly your teeth have set me to fire and ice, chills running down my spine until they are warmed at its base. You grasp at the strap of my tank top, hissing something in my ear about being in your way. I mutter unintelligibly and you press your body harder against mine against the wall.
Your hand reaches around me and takes a handful of my breast, scratching, squeezing, pinching my nipple until I squirm and whimper for you to stop. You grant me no such solace. Instead you abruptly turn me around and effortlessly rid me of the top half of my tank top, letting the lacy top fall around my stomach. Your mouth is on mine again, and again come the fire and chills making my knees weaker by the second. Finally, I can't take it anymore and wring my hands free from yours to throw them around your neck, clutching desperately at your shirt, needing your skin on mine.
Our lips break briefly as your shirt passes over your head and between us and next to the still-open door. I kick it shut as I come back to bite your bottom lip. My nails start to dig into your shoulder blades, and I can just make out a sigh as you shudder and wrap your arms around me, tight. You lift me up to fully meet your six-foot-plus frame, and I eagerly wrap my legs around your waist. You slam me against the wall once more, and your hands move to cup my ass for support and then some.
I barely feel you move until you throw me on the bed, so hard I almost bounce off. As I regain my composure you look at me, and the remnants of the outfit you know I spent days preparing. The perfectly coiffed hair now tousled by your rough hands, the just-enough-not-too-much makeup not hiding the color in my cheeks and my excitement, the strategically planned outfit twisted sideways and halfway down my body. "You're beautiful, you know," you say in the first coherent comment either of us have made since we set foot inside the door. "Now, take off the rest of those clothes. I don't want anything else in my way."


...to be continued...