The Fiery SensationMature

May 27th 2015

The air in my lungs was knocked out of me with the question and my mind stumbled for an answer, or an excuse to leave. None came to me though, and I sat there in his arms, terrified at the decision laid before me. It was so soon, I didn’t even know myself well enough, and though I’d known Michael for four years, he was still essentially a stranger to me, yet here I was, wrapped in his arm and letting him kiss down my neck and say things like this.

“I- it’s really soon Michael,” I said, voice losing it’s strength and cracking, “I don’t even know what I am yet.”

“Well,” he said, “You like me don’t you?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly, “Yeah, I really do.”

“Well then what’s sexuality matter?” he asked, “Listen to your heart. You don’t need to label yourself.”

“I want to be able to just not care,” I said, turning my head towards him, “But Michael, everyone thinks I just like girls. Hell, I only just told Zach. I don’t want to have to explain all of these things to my family, and risk rejection like that.”

“So you’d rather run from it and lie to yourself?” he asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

“No, that’s not it,” I said quietly, trying not to upset him, “Michael, I’m just scared. I don’t know what to tell them, and I’m not lying to myself I just don’t know what to do.”

“Austin,” Michael said, turning my cheek to where our eyes met, “You shouldn’t be scared, your mom and your brothers both love you. They wouldn’t reject you, just do what you want to. Don’t worry about too much else, it’ll all fall into place.”

I hesitated before nodding quietly, and I felt his arms tighten around me and his head planted firmly against my shoulder blade. We just breathed in each other for a few minutes, he smelled like aftershave and I could feel the stubble of where his beard should be rubbing against my cheek. His hands were soft but firm and his lips left a burning sensation whenever they collided with my skin, even if for only a brief moment. Finally I lifted my head and broke the silence that lay between us.

“I’ll be your boyfriend.” I said, a shy smile playing across my face.

He smiled back and leaned into me for a kiss, his lips met mine and the burning sensation I had felt raged through my bodies and into the core of my being. It burned there as we continued and I turned to place a hand on his cheek, shifting my legs to where I was wrapped around his torso and our kisses became more lustful and aggressive.

He placed his hands round my back and pulled me in as I shifted up further and moved my lips down to his neck. He made a sound of pure pleasure as I did and I felt his hands pulling up on my shirt as I did. I held my arms up and then continued to kiss the nape of his neck and shoulder as his hands connected with my bare back, sending ripples of heated energy up my spine.

I moaned a little as I moved his shirt off of him, throwing it to the side as well and running my hands down his back and massaging my fingers into his joints. He grunted and eased his hands down my back and onto my butt, grasping firmly. I unzipped his jeans and let loose the full extent of the fiery feelings that he had instilled into me.

About two hours later we laid there naked and heaving. I was plastered across his chest and caked in sweat and his saliva. I panted for breath and prayed for the fire to finally subside. My body ached and groaned every time I attempted to move. Michael’s hands moved sluggishly over my back, having lost the energy to even bother trying to massage or anything, all they could do was tickle at a snail’s pace down my back. One of my arms was pressed against his back and I could feel small smears of blood where my nails had raked into his skin during our romp.

Dark bruises from his lips dotted around my neck like blackberries had been smeared underneath the delicate layer of skin. Marks from his hands laid splayed out over me, his grips evident and powerful. We didn’t bother talking, we didn’t bother moving, we just laid laid there, half asleep, and yet fully awake and aware of what we’d just done.

His arms clutched the small of my back, finally deciding to stop moving and wrap around me. I pressed my face into his shoulders and sighed softly. My hair was in tatters now, after how much time I’d spent this morning making sure it was just right for work. His hair was short but it dribbled with sweat and stuck up in random places.

“I need a shower.” I groaned, trying to move but finding I was still too sore to move my legs. Marks from his teeth ached around my thighs and my chest and bid me stay laid against him longer.

“I do too.” Michel said.

“Wanna carry me?” I teased.

“If I can’t haul my fat ass up,” he said laughing, “I don’t think I can carry you.”

“Oh please,” I purred, “You definitely just showed you’re pretty athletic.”

“Well,” he said, pushing his nose into my hair, “You’re not bad yourself. I didn’t know someone could be so rough.”

We kissed again, deep and longingly. His hands gripped my ass and squeezed, then letting go with a resounding smack.I grimaced a little but smiled, giving him a wicked look as I gave him the same kind of bruise he had left on me earlier. Finally, we decided to quit flirting and he let me go as I wobbled to my feet.

“You mind if I use your shower?” I asked, teetering off the bed and managing to stand.

“Go ahead,” he said, “It’s down the hall, second door on the left.”

I nodded and padded down the hall, still fully nude and opened the door, making sure to lock it. I pushed open the clear glass door and placed a towel on the sink, I slinked into it and turned the handle, letting the warm water soothe my aching body as the pulses of my blood pumping echoed off of the muscles and capillaries.

I placed a on the side of the bathroom and got out the shampoo, ladeling a puddle of it into my hand and then scrubbing through the sweat and grime, being careful not to press on any bruises close to my skull. The water rinsed it all away and down the drain, I exchanged shampoo for conditioner and lathered it through my hair once again, and then let it all fade away once more.

After a brief squabble with a bar of soap and turning off the water with a grunt, I dried myself off with the towel I had laid out and then wrapped it around my waist. I unlocked the door and plodded out and back into the bedroom, where he was splayed out on the bed naked. He turned his eyes to me and studied me as I walked in. I felt a little awkward dropping my tower, and seeing him like that, but then I remembered what we’d just done.

I pulled on my underwear and my jeans, forcing a belt through the loops and around my stomach. I pulled my socks and shoes on and then shoved my head and arms through my T-shirt, hearing the bed shift I felt his presence in my face once again.

“Are you gonna go?” He said, his breath hitting the nape of my neck.

“Yeah,” I responded, “I should probably get home now. Maybe we can do dinner another time?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile, “Besides, I gotta go take a shower so I don’t look like shit when my parents get back later tonight.”

I nodded and we embraced for a moment. Our lips connected one last time and when we parted I watched as he padded out of the room and into the bathroom, clicking away on his phone without another word. The stairs seemed a blur and the door shut without a noise as I exited and made my way towards my car. I fumbled through my pockets and found my keys, then remembering another important article that should be in there.

My wallet. I must have forgotten it in his house. I did a 360 and swung the door open quietly, walking up the stairs and back up to his room, the shower was pounding in the other room. I found it lying where my jeans had been, sitting there unopened and unviolated, and I let out a sound of relief.

I was about to leave when the shower stopped and I heard the glass door slide open. That’s when his ringtone started. I paused for a moment, I felt like I was intruding, but curiosity got the better of me.

“Hey dad.” Michael’s voice sounded curt and strained. There was a loud babbling from the phone and I could feel the heated tension from through the walls.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” He sounded exasperated. The babbling got louder and louder.

“Why the fuck is it you always have to do this to me?” Michael’s voice began to rise, “You always blame me for all of your fucking problems, when I’m not even there to cause them.”

The voice became even louder over the phone, it was obvious his father was beginning to scream as loud as he could.

“Fuck you,” Michael screamed, “You fucking complain about me being lazy when all the fuck you ever do is get drunk and leave me alone at home.”

At this point, I bolted out of the room and tried to shut the door as quietly as possible, but it ended up almost slamming. I hated screaming, but what I hated more, was Michael’s voice when he was screaming.

It was too out of place for him, when everything else made me feel safe, that made me terrified.

The End

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