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My guys.
At the simple thought of Knox, Reed, and Landon, I kiss him back.
Tongue, so much tongue. Too much tongue. Honestly, I didn’t know that was a thing but here I am wishing he would take his entire tonsils out of my mouth.
Maybe we should skip to the finish line. Foreplay is clearly overrated.
God, I’m going to lose my virginity with very poorly done sex if we’re judging based off how he strokes and thrusts that tongue.
Pulling away, my lips feel tacky and damp, I run my hands down the side of my body till I find the hem of my shirt. One good tug and I’m pulling it up over my head. The material catches on my blonde hair but I don’t care as I yank it free and drop the shirt to the ground.
Damon eyes me with eager attention. He's looking at me the way he probably does the latest release of Call of Duty.
I wonder if he knows how to get my bra off without assistance. We will see.
Here's to lowering high expectations.
The mattress quietly creaks as I lay myself back on the bed. Damon climbs up and hovers over me with one hand planted near my head, pulling harshly at my long blonde hair beneath his palm. I wince as he pulls and then finally situates himself.
Our lips meet again. Want thrums through me. Not the kind of want I thought I'd be having during my first time, that kind that you're just so into someone that you need all of them, physically need their touch. I thought I’d be burning up to have him closer, deeper.
It's not how I feel with my roommates. Their hands are always gentle, a whisper of fleeting touches that always singe across my tingling skin.
No, this is purely primal.
I just want to get that orgasm. One given to me by someone that isn’t myself. That’s all I’m asking for here. I suppose mind blowing, body shaking, just can’t get enough of it sex will have to be another time.
Incredibly low expectations, I tell you.
Damon’s hand slides up my side grazing my chest before he cradles my face. This is nice. Maybe he is better at sex than kissing.
Fingers crossed.
One messy kiss, two messy kisses and then his hand drifts back down to my chest. Thankfully, his mouth leaves my lips. Though his tongue leaves a wet trail that chills in the cold air as he licks his way even lower.
My breath stutters.
I’m doing this. We are really doing this.
I hum and arch my back under his touch. He doesn’t bother to try and undo my bra from the back but merely pulls my straps down and folds the material away from his roaming mouth.
The smooth pads of his fingers slide over sensitive skin.
Okay, this is nice. A little slow and a little sloppy. Not what I'm used to seeing, but it's actually really nice.
Shit, that's how someone describes a new fast food joint, not sex.
It doesn't matter.
His hands are so very soft. See, this is what a rich boy’s hands should feel like. Not like the rough hands of Reed.
Reed would feel good. His touch always feels good. Or Landon. He'd take care of me just like he always does.
A breathy sigh shakes from my lungs with that thought and Damon hums an arrogant laugh as if he's responsible for my quiet moans rather than my overactive imagination.
I squeeze my eyes shut trying not to think of anyone at all. Trying not to let my mind wander to Knox, or Landon, or Reed and all the ways I’ve wanted them to touch me. I just want to be here. I want to be in the now.
Damon is nice! He is! This is what I want.
