We cuddled on his futon, me sitting on his lap, and his strong arms wrapped around me. We were watching James Bond, and the love interest of the moment was getting undressed. I turned to him and said, “You so wish you were him, don’t you?”
He answered, smiling, “Only if that was you up there getting undressed.”
I grinned and kissed him lightly once, twice, three times. His eyes closed and he leaned in again. His lips were soft, and cold from the soda he’d been drinking a couple minutes earlier. His lips opened mine gently, his tongue slipping into my mouth. I felt my heart start to beat faster.
I kissed back in response letting his mouth work its magic on me and my trembling heart.
He rolled over on top of me, not even pausing in kissing. I felt his hand slide under my shirt, and my breath escaped through my nose, sounding fragile. His hand kept inching higher and higher, feeling clammy on my skin. I swirled my tongue around in his mouth harder, feeling a thrill rise in my lower abdomen.
His hand stopped, his fingers right under my bra line. I took a deep breath, raising my chest to press it against him. This time I heard his breath get heavier. I smiled to myself, and I pushed against him harder.
Encouraged, his fingers slipped under my bra, and his hand squeezed and massaged. I slipped my hands behind his neck, and played with the bottom of his hair, pulling him closer all the while.
He pulled his mouth away from mine, and kissed under my jaw line. I raised my head, giving him more room. He licked my neck from my collarbone, trailing up back to my lips. He paused before he kissed me again, though.
“What?” I asked, wondering why he paused.
He shook his head, and kissed me again, now hungrily. My giggle was muffled, and he didn’t pause. I heard heroic music playing in the background. I guessed there was a high speed chase going on in the movie.
He pulled away again, and I was a little annoyed this time. “What? Just tell me.”
He looked like he was trying to decide something. I rolled my eyes, and dropped my hands from behind his neck. He nodded, and said, “One sec.” He got off me and left the room.
I looked around his living room. It was rather plain, the futon I was laying on now, a plain small TV, a few pictures of us and some of his family and friends. There was a fan in the corner on high speed; it got hot in this little apartment in August. I liked it though. It was plain and small and a little crappy, but it reminded me of him, my boyfriend. I remember we met a year ago in psychology class in college. We's hung out a couple times, and then when he’d invited me back to his house, he was embarrassed of how small and nasty it was. I’d helped him put a fresh coat of paint on the place, and it became suddenly more homey.
He came back in the room, and I grinned automatically. His light brown hair ruffled, and his hazel eyes bright.
“I wasn’t sure…” he mumbled as he sat down next to me. I looked at what he had in his hand, a small package with a small text that said Trojan on the front. He held it objectively.
“Oh.” I said in surprise. I had been through this before, but I knew he still hadn’t. I didn’t know that he felt ready. “Are you sure?” I asked quietly, taking the package from him, and turning it around in my hands.
“I think so…”
I grinned even wider. “I love you,” I whispered, and kissed his cheek.
“I love you too.”
And explosion went off on the TV, and we both jumped. My laugh was almost forced as I grabbed the clicker and turned it off. I turned to him, and stared in his eyes.
He leaned in to kiss me again, and ran his hands through my hair, pulling it a little, teasingly. “Mmm,” I mumbled. He pushed me gently back onto the futon. His lips were clumsy, and he kissed my neck again. I let out a soft sigh.
He went back to my lips, and my hands found the button on his pants. I started to unzip them, and pull them down when he just sort of froze up.
I pulled my lips away from his. “Are you ok?”
His eyes were wide, and he glanced at the condom again. He swallowed hard.
“We don’t have to use it.” I said, meaning we didn’t have to do what he didn’t want to do.
His eyes widened, and I realized he thought I meant that a different way.
“No, no. I just meant we don’t have to do this.” I touched his cheek lightly.
He looked frustrated, and ran his hand through his hair. “I should want this. I love you. It’s just… ugh. I don’t know. It feels weird. Like… I don’t know. Like you deserve better than a futon.”
I smiled. “Don’t worry about it. When it happens it’ll be special. I don’t want to rush you.”
“You’re not. But I’m the guy. That should be the thing I’m worried about doing,” he growled.
I smiled, and nudged him. “Well, I think it’s cute. Promise.” He raised his eyebrows and I stuck my tongue out at him. He chuckled quietly.
“So! I want to finish the rest of that movie. I don’t know how it ends!” I said with enthusiasm.
He laughed and hugged me tight before turning on the TV again.
...
