We walk around the corner, ostensibly searching for an available trash receptacle. Once we’re out of sight, you give the area no more than a cursory glance before you’re kissing me. Your mouth on mine makes me melt. Your hand in my hair hurts so good. I wrap my arms around you and revel in the moment. It feels stolen, illicit, naughty.
How is it that I feel like a sneaky teenager when I’m with you? I wasn’t a sneaky teenager when I was a teenager. And yet 😍 We tip toe through the house so our parents won’t catch us. We never spend the night cuz we have to wake up in our own beds or someone will suspect. When we meet we’re cordial, we hug, we smile –> we tell ourselves we’re smooth and managing to keep everything on the DL.
You’re like a drug and I have to pretend to be sober when other people are around us. I walk very carefully. Ar-ti-cu-laaaaa-te every syllable so that no one catches on. Intentionally force my eyes to roam around the room so they won’t fixate on you. Side note – how is it these behaviours seem totes legit when one is drunk or stoned or crushing hard core? They’re so bloody obvious.
How are you so captivating? How are you so sexy? Where have you been all my life?
Now there’s a phrase I NEVER thought I’d utter. I want to capture the words and push them back into my mouth before they hit your ears but I’m thrilled to have said them and eagerly await your response. That slow, knowing smile. Those mischievous lips. The devious sparkle in your eyes.
I know you aren’t mine, that you won’t ever be mine. In some ways, that’s actually encouraging. I get to have these glimpses, these tastes, and then I get to go back to reality and get on with my life. You’re not a part of my life and that feels safer, somehow. My friends don’t know you, though they’ve heard of you for sure. Your friends don’t know me, apart from having met your roommate that one time I didn’t quite manage to sneak out quietly enough. Awkward much? It didn’t matter. You were instantly there and staking a claim on me. So hot.
And here we are again. Around that dark corner where no one can see. Your cock presses urgently against me.
“I think I need to have you in my bed again,” you murmur before taking complete control of my mouth. Moments pass. We consume each other ravenously.
You pull back and grin at me, rubbing your thumb across my lips. You ask if I want to grab some dinner as you twist and squeeze my nipple. I reach into your pants and wrap my hand around that glorious cock and kiss you, hard.
“No. I’m hungry for something else.”