Just a short story about a girl and boy
“So, this is your house.” I said as I entered his house like I owned the place.
“Yep. This is chez moi.” His deep voice made me smile. I turned to face him as he slammed the front door and I kissed him passionately.
He seemed hesitant as we kissed but I guessed he was nervous about the sex we should have been having later on that night.
The house was small, but big enough for one man. He had kept it surprisingly clean for a man, I thought. My impression of a man was three words “dirty, rude and different”. I would say this to myself whenever I met a man. Dirty because, well, it’s obvious, I though all guys were only about drinking beer, getting drunk and crude jokes. Rude, that's obvious too; I thought they wouldn’t ever appreciate me for who I am. And different because all men are different to women. They have different tastes, different moods, and different ways in life.
I shook the thoughts of my impression of men out of my head and focussed on the man in front of me then.
“What's up?” I could see his face turning a deep shade of red; he had done this earlier at the bar we met at. He had then gone on to nearly crying, I hadn’t known why but he had just spoken to me, asked to buy me a drink, then there he was, tears building in his piercing green eyes.
He vigorously shook his head at my question and put a hand to his face as he went to sit on the tattered couch in the corner.
“You sure, babe?” We had only met for the first time that night, but I knew something was going to happen. I sat down close next to him; if I had been any closer to him, I would’ve been sitting on top of him.
“Yes. I’m fine. Come on, I’ll give you the tour.” He wiped his eyes with the v-neck part of his revealing tshirt.
“How about no tour? I can survive with... no tour.” I paused and pressed myself even more against him.
Through his skinny jeans I could see his erection and I could now see no trace of tears.
“How about I just show you the bedroom?” He smiled and chuckled, grabbing my hand and pulling me up with him.
“Okay!” I screamed a little too loud as we ran upstairs.
We kissed again, well, I can hardly call it kissing more like sucking each other faces off as we ripped our clothes off our sweating bodies.
He cupped my breast gently and I reached down to undo his trousers where his erection was pressing hard. He stops me and pulls his hands away.
“I can’t do this. I’m so sorry.” He said, his face scarlet and his eyes even more so as hot tears ran down his chiselled cheekbones. I noticed his erection going back to just a limp cock in his trousers. That was a big turn-off for me.
“What are you sorry for?” I asked him, backing away slightly as he stopped crying abruptly and looked at me.
His eyes thinned and his lips pursed more together. He stood there, topless, with this evil look on his face for a few moments, then went to the door of his bedroom.
“What are you doing?” I questioned as he shut the door and turned the key, took it out and put it in his pocket.
“I’m so sorry.” He repeated in a scared voice and he came towards me as I backed away. What was he doing?
“Tell me! What are you doing? I want to leave!” He came towards me gracefully, his bare feet making no noise on the wooden floor.
“Oh, you. You, you, you, you, you.” He muttered, shaking his head slowly, no emotion except slight pain showing on his face.
“Leave me alone.” I looked for a way out of the small room. There was a window behind me and I pressed my back against it to disguise my trying to open it. But it wouldn’t budge.
“The window doesn’t open.” He said, still coming closer to me until he was only a few inches away from my face.
“Who are you?” I asked, he obviously had lied earlier when we had met.