Getting into the room without tripping over each other or other objects was quite a task. Let's just say making out and walking looks easier than it really is. Finally getting frustrated with my flailing about, Malcolm reached down and grasped my thighs picking me up so my legs rapped around his waist. His kisses became more open and rougher til finally he lightly dropped me on the bed, making me bounce a little. I giggled as he crawled up my body, kissing and nipping the whole way.
Clothes disappeared and we got intimate. In the shine of the afterglow. We spoke about our life before the other. How his father had hated him for who his mother was, how he was in Foster care for the majority of his life, until he got himself emancipated a year ago. His brother lived nearby and promised to take me to meet him.
"What about you? What's your life like?" I shifted so I was laying on his chest.
"Hell. That's the only way I can describe it. My mom has always hated me. My father had gotten into drugs when I was little and liked going into my room at night from the time I was six to just after thirteen, when I was able to finally fight back. My sister was always the favourited child out of my brothers and I.y older brother went to jail when he was nineteen because he walked in on my father molesting me at eleven years old, and nearly beat him to death. My dad left shortly after, but since he was a 'good man' in the judges eyes my siblings and I had to see him every weekend.
