ducttapelips

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Sadie was flirting with some guy, sitting on a bright orange chair, vulgarly crossing her legs, completely immersed in this conversation. I sat down beside her, pulled an ice cube out of the plastic cup with my fingers and rubbed it on my hot cheek. The blond flickers somewhere nearby, disappears into the crowd and the flashing strobe light, then reappears for a second. I diligently track him with my eyes, notice every single movement, but as soon as I catch his return look, I turn away.

I've had an ironclad rule all my life: don't get into a relationship. Relationships are such a thing that whether you like it or not - it just ends. It would seem that we just walked hand in hand, made plans, looked into each other's eyes - and suddenly there was nothing. Emptiness. Burned and scattered like crumbly ashes from our old polaroids we took on our dates. And since they are burned anyway, I must live without it. In fact, sex is an amazing thing itself, you don't need to spoil it with all this loves, hates, one nights, just stays.

I honestly try to think that I am a flint and that, in truth, I pride myself on my fortitude against love dramas. My ex said I couldn't get a quarter of a cent sentimental. Friendly participation - as much as you'd like, but romance, it just can disappear forever and never come back.

I always try to be honest with whom I sleep - no promises, no confessions and, accordingly, no complaints. I am not going to talk about love with him in particular. Yes, he himself certainly understands everything perfectly, he is not a fool.

It's dangerous, of course. If anyone finds out...

But adrenaline always makes me shake, and the danger turns me on. So I get turned on. I wanted to tickle my nerves, with the girls it seems like I have already tried everything, what is possible and what is not. That's why he clicked in my head.

Well, there's no need for a relationship? We'll sleep a couple of times and run away, fwb, no homo... It's always been like that. He is with Sadie anyway, though I highly doubt that you can call them a thing, they'll continue to fuck if they want to or even if they don't, and I will also go my own way. A couple of weeks, on the strength - a month, with a discount on curiosity.

It doesn't mean anything, I keep repeating to myself. Just adrenaline.

"Who's got your eyes so fixed on?" Sadie wrapped her icy arms around my shoulders, resting her sharp chin on my shoulder. "Ah, it's Luke! What, you're afraid that I'll bite you for him?"

"Exactly," I grimaced because, oh, Lord, I don't like touching to the point of trembling. "He has a cool chick, if something happens - you immediately rush, bite. And I don't really get the pain fetish, you know."

"I wouldn't worry about my teeth at all if I were you," she brazenly snatched a cup of vodka from my hands, took a deep sip, exhaled sharply. "You can argue with my toothiness, you have more of them than sharks - ten rows, or even more. Believe me, I would be afraid to let you between my legs."

"Next time I'll definitely bite," I promised with a grin, knowing that there will be no next time with her. "Your nose."

Sadie laughed drunkenly and pressed her wet, cold lips to my temple. Why do girls get so eerily tactile when they get drunk?

"I'll bite you myself, not your nose tho." she threatened, waving dangerously close with her manicured finger. "Not scared at all?"

"The one who fears every tooth must never give in someone's mouth."

"You're a risky guy," she slapped my knee as she stood up. "I'm going to make out with the girls. Have fun."

She, like a fury, flew into a round dance of half-naked girls on the carpet in the living room. She felt one, kissed another, rubbed herself against a third. There were a couple of cheers and whistles from the crowd. I followed her with my eyes for a bit, but more out of idleness than out of interest.

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