Experiment – it can be sexy

So….I hated my last two entries. I wanted to return to my first one, and flesh out a later moment in that. I ended up with this in 30 minutes.

MBS

I knew when he answered the door why I had come. He stood there shirtless, the low glow of a lamp making him have a warm glow, striking a pose that expressed a casual expectation. He knew I would show, despite the fact I didn’t agree with why he had called. He didn’t consider screwing me cheating, not if it was strictly sex. How could his boyfriend deny him this when he was 5 states away. He didn’t love me, and never made me believe he would. I was just something to be had, and then be gone. It was strange to know I was some thing to him. Not someone.

Yet I couldn’t have said no. He was irresistible to me, and he knew it. He knew that for me, tonight was something I wanted more than him. That I wanted it to be more, but would never force him to make it anything. It was fine to be a thing for him, but only him.

“Do you want a drink?” he whispered in my ear, and I blushed as his naked nipple rubbed against the cotton of my baseball shirt.

“Only if you have one too.” I squeeked out as I entered.

“I’ve already started. You’re one behind.” He closed the door and sauntered into the kitchen, while I took my place on his couch.

So much had started from this exact spot. I knew because my first kiss was here, he had pressed the temple of his head against mine, I remember it hurt, but I was too nervous to move. He pressed harder, but I stared ahead at the awful movie on the television. I remember thinking it wouldn’t happen. My first kiss was not going to happen while a Martin Lawrence movie was on. That wasn’t the soundtrack I wanted. I wanted something ethereal, something that would make me float higher. He kept pressing, and then it was too much, the pain too acute, and I turned my toward him. I never saw his face, in the split second my head began to move, he grabbed me and I felt his lips touch mine. They were soft and fleshy, and not as hard as I had thought a boys lips would be. I forgot to breathe, stunned, and reeling. The soundtrack of my kiss was that movie, but I didn’t hear it. I heard the siren call I had imagined, and I was floating. With one taste of him I wanted more, but was reluctant to press him further. I froze, but he knew what to do. He traced his hands up my shoulders and moved further in. His second kiss was more aggressive, but natural, he parted my lips with his tongue and soon I did the same to him. We kissed for minutes, but it felt like hours. He straddled my waist and I felt my back rest against the large buttons on the cushions of the couch. That’s how I remembered the spot. The place that, if I laid back, the large plastic disk would slowly rub between my shoulder blades.

“So what’s new?” He asked, placing the glass in my hand. I was feeling drunk from being near him, and the straight whiskey in the glass would have my head swimming in no time. I enjoyed the idea of this seduction; the lighting of my lover, the liquor being supplied to let down my defenses, to make me choose my desire over my respect for the concept of monogamy. It was all part of his game, he wouldn’t want someone who would always choose his desires over others. He wanted to corrupt, to destroy my innocence. It was as if by tainting my morals, he could forget about what he was doing. Forget that he was the one who might lose someone he loves.

“Oh, not much. Same office, same life.” It was true. My life seemed so boring to me in front of him. It was not exciting, like this, and my life didn’t matter. He asked to avoid silence, I could tell him anything, but it wouldn’t matter unless it pertained to tonight. To my innocence, which is what he wanted, remaining in tact. The first night, when we kissed, touched, he broke away from me. He sighed, and I remember I was so scared that I had done something wrong, and as he exhaled he smiled. He told me he loved the way I smelled like soap, so clean, just like a virgin. I didn’t feel like one after that night, I had cum with him, and it was the first orgasm I’d ever had with someone else. His mouth on me, my mouth on him. It felt like it took forever, but I didn’t want to finish, I didn’t want it to stop. He’d offered me heaven that night, but I was too shy to take it with both hands. I told him I wanted to start slow, but really I just wanted him to want me again. He did, but tonight I knew I risked losing him forever. I risked it for the joy of having one full night of forbidden sexual bliss, even though he might never think of me as innocent again.

“Well, at least some things never change.” He stroked my spine and my jaw dropped. He knew this was my weakness. He had learned that when he traced his tongue down my spine that first night. I was had almost screamed with the ecstasy I was in, but he kissed me to make me quiet. His parents were home that night, but they were gone tonight. Tonight he planned to make me moan, and would expect me to be as loud as I had wanted to be that first night.

“Some things will change.” I said as I touched his chest, stroked my finger where his heart beat underneath, and looked at him in his eyes. He stared back, not cold, but not warm. He was not going to allow this final step of seduction resemble love, and he knew I would submit to lust. He kissed me, and that was the last think we said. He took me that night, like he had tried that first night, and the numerous nights between. His power of seduction had made me forget about love, and only know that this was my night with him. My night to take whatever I wanted, and so I did. I kissed him all over his body, and gripped the parts of his body that drove me wild. His chest, his shoulders, his hair. Every part of him was for me that night, and when he finally made love to me, it was wild. It was neither tender nor caring, it was like a beast who had been chained up had been set free and I was his prey. I felt like I was being devoured, ravaged, and my survival instincts kicked in. I clawed at his perfect shoulder blades, but it just made him go at me harder. I pulled him closer to my body, and I made him kiss me. Made him give me equal pleasure, and as fast as it had begun it was over. He came, as did I, and then he stood up. His body wet with sweat shined, and he looked satisfied. He was like the wolf after having eaten Little Red Riding Hood. He smiled that smile, and left the room.

I lay there, trying to make the moment linger, but without him in the room the beauty of what had transpired was over. He was more than I had ever thought he could be, and I worried I would never be able be satisfied by another man. Who could live up to that performance? Could anyone top it? Was my innocence with others having experienced this with him? I had to stop thinking. I got dressed and went into the room. He was still naked, and drinking his whiskey. I drank one more, and told him that I wanted to kiss him at least one more time. He flashed his smile, closed his eyes, and offered his lips to me. I kissed them sweetly, like I had that first night, and told myself to remember it forever.

He never called for me again, but I have never forgotten his lips.

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