~|°~ Little Poet's Diary ~°|~

~|°~ thought in my mind ~°|~

I’m so fucked. We had a few drinks, not that it would be exactly bad, but, you know, and now we're kissing.

I was sitting on the couch and she's astride on top of me. God, I could feel her above me. Her. Her lips were warm on mine, I wasn’t so sure about her liking them, they are not so full and perfect, like hers. Oh my lord. She was gliding her hands on my skin, which was exposed to everyone. I wish she could do that in our bed. No, no. Stop. Right now. I can’t. I grabbed her waist, my fingers digging into her skin. She felt so good in my hands. Her weight on my lap, her hands on my face. She moved her weight on me for a while, as if she was scared that I would find her heavy. Oh, if she knew how I love it all. I tightened my hands on her waist and just pulled her down. I wanted to tell her, how fucking good she tastes and how fucking good she felt on my body, but I felt ashamed. Of what, attraction? Yes. Oh god, she’s going for the bottom seam of my t-shirt. Oh, no, no, no, no, not now. People are watching. I gently took her hands and led them on my thighs, not wanting to take the risk.
Have you ever felt that weird feeling in your stomach? I haven’t, not until that moment she moved herself on one of my thighs. God, that can’t be comfortable. Oh my god. How even did we get to this point? Drunk at a party, on your friend’s couch.
We were texting and started dating. I just rode the fucking train for fucking hours and she’s devouring my soul with her devil lips. This feels wrong. It felt right. It was right.

“Hey, you okay? You kinda went… somewhere.” She suddenly breaks the kiss, looking at me concerned. “What?” I say, breaking from my thoughts.