Kissing and TellingbyFyreforged©
B is a few years older than I am and 'between ladies' right now- he's hinted at a semi-recent breakup but for some time has been enjoying the single life. He's really not at all my type, except for being intelligent and generally attractive, but I'm drawn to him anyway. We'd met months ago but our acquaintance was exclusively through C, as they work together. Out of necessity, we've exchanged a few random instant messages in the past but about three weeks ago we began chatting in earnest.
For the first time maybe ever in my life, the conversation got down to brass tacks almost immediately. There was a little flirting but mostly just to test the waters before we started making plans to meet, and after a few stops and starts (schedule conflicts are a bitch) I ended up at his place at about 10:30 last Friday night.
Oh, God, even though we'd agreed this was only going to be (hopefully) an intense makeout session, I was so nervous I stood outside the door for several minutes trying to stop shaking. It's of the utmost importance to me that I appear calm and composed with him- I suppose it's my way of maintaining some feeling of control in a situation that has seemed from the outset to have been almost preordained. This isn't serious; it isn't emotional, but it's sure as hell SOMETHING and whatever it is had me excited and skittish as I've ever been.
When he unlocked the door the deadbolt shrieked and momentarily shattered all of that carefully-constructed composure, but I pulled it together and went inside. I laughed because it was dark- he'd warned me days before that things were a mess and I'd suggested that he simply keep the lights off and I'd never know- and then he flipped on the hallway lightswitch. We took a few steps into the room and I leaned up against the wall while we made idle conversation, hoping my legs wouldn't give out and a little glad that I could so easily continue with the facade of nonchalance.
"So how do we do this?"
"I don't know. Turn out the light." And he does.
Wow. It's suddenly VERY dark. I'm not used to rooms being this dark anymore, not where I live when even at night with the curtains drawn you can still see distinct outlines of everything.
"Where are you?" he asks. "Really. I can't find you."
I take his left hand and feel his fingers curl around mine. He moves closer and I feel his right hand touch my face, then he takes one more small step toward me and we're kissing.
His lips are different but not bad at all and I'm not sure if it's a benefit or a drawback that I don't really have a comprehensive database for comparison. I let go of his hand and he rests it at my waist when I reach up to his neck. His skin is soft and warm and he smells better than any human being has a right to- a spicy-minty combination so unfamiliar I can't pick out any particular element and it doesn't actually matter because I can just keep breathing in and out while kissing him and it's still there.
"Wait a second." I balance on one foot and then the other to take my boots off so the height disparity is a little greater. It's been a while since I've kissed someone taller than I am and damnit, I'm gonna make the most of it. A few minutes later, somehow, we're on the bed.
On our sides facing each other at first, then he shifts and he's looking down at me. Kissing, nipping, biting... pulling hair and crushing ourselves together. He catches me under the knee and pulls my leg up high around his waist as he presses into me harder and harder, but still not hard enough. I can feel his teeth on my neck and I murmur the single word "Careful" because as much as I want him to, leaving marks would cause trouble later.
I giggle and he asks what I'm laughing about, so I say that maybe it's because I'm enjoying myself. He counters with "OK... and what's the REAL reason?" and I laugh again and tell him that IS the real reason. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness so I can see it when he stops a few times and just looks at me. Since it's apparently my turn to ask 'why', I do and he says, "I'm just thinking about the things I'd like to do to you" and I think this is a very good answer. I don't really care if it's true since most of the alternatives are just as satisfactory, but I like that he said it anyway. Then it's mouths and teeth and hands again for a while.
"Feel what you do to me."
I do. I'm impressed with both of us.
Minutes, hours, years later, he sits back on his heels and I try to make some sense of my hair.
"I'm not supposed to trust you," I say.
He leans forward, takes my head in his hands, and brings his mouth down on mine, hard. My legs are wrapped around his waist again and I decide that if we were naked, THIS is the point where some serious fucking would be occurring. Alas, we're not and it's not, but that doesn't stop us from acting it out pretty convincingly.
"Am I the only one who wishes my cock was inside you?"
"No, there're at least two of us here."
I love the muscles of his back and arms. His hair is the perfect length to grab a handful and pull- and he LIKES it. He holds my hands and laces our fingers. He smoothes my hair away from my face and runs his thumbs over my cheekbones. He rests his forehead against my shoulder and breathes. It's a steady sound like he's trying to settle himself. His arms are trembling.
But all good things must come to an end. It's been an hour and a half, give or take (TAKE!) and he has other plans soon. We keep kissing, though, so I ask how I'm supposed to leave. A few minutes later he asks me who's not letting whom leave. More kissing, and I say that he could just skip whatever else he's got on the line, but he says he can't. I don't ask why.
After we're both upright again, he moves in to kiss me but I sway backward to prevent it, telling him I don't want to be blamed for keeping him any longer. He seems a bit miffed but it must pass quickly because when I laugh and kiss him anyway, he keeps his arms around me for a minute and kisses me back quite firmly.
One more kiss at my car and we're on our separate ways.
To be continued. Sooner rather than later, I hope.