I woke up to your scent this morning, not sure if it was a whiff of your deodorant stuck to my clothes or a memory of the previous morning – waking up next to you – whatever it was, it made my day.
I wasn’t angry or annoyed or sad today; smiled a lot for a really long time. I started to wondered later in the morning, what you were up to. We hadn’t spoken much since two nights ago; just short exchanges of information: “wassup?”, “What plans?” or some polite crap like that.
Your scent, the taste of your neck, the smell from your hair, and the rough edges of your skin got my blood rushing; my mind and hands wandering. Felt jolts of electricity hit me, and each hit sent signals of pleasures that curled my toes, made the hair on my hand stand, and bite my lips. Every stroke of my hands, fingers, lips, and mouth against your skin drove my mind insane.
I went on till I felt your hand stop me from going down, I came back up and you didn’t stop me. It wasn’t beautiful any more, you felt like a rock and I didn’t stop. I tried to get you closer but you didn’t want to, not the way I wanted to. I realized and moved away gave you distance and you were distressed, inconvenient, and awkward.
Your sudden blood curdling scream, scared me and I wanted to hold on to you till you stopped; I wanted to be there for you, but mostly it was for myself. It rained outside and later you tell that you never realised and I hate myself for everything I said and did that night; like the cold rain we will also see an end, hopefully it isn’t tonight.
I wish you felt the same way as I did, but you don’t; I think. A tear ran down and then it dried. My fingers touched, felt and held on to you, kissed you. But you lay there like a brick and stopped me when it was too much or too far. You stopped me to go to the bathroom and came back to sleep closer to me than you already had.
That night seems like a drunk, horny act but it wasn’t just that; it was an effort to see if? Maybe?
But I don’t know what happened. Was I just horny ? Or drunk?