Raymond 'Rooster' Jones is a 21 year old man who didn't come from money and is from the other side of the tracks. Raised by his aunt and uncle. Rooster who should be enjoying life as any 21 year old kid should be doing. But Rooster's life is not abo...
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MONICA
Why am I letting him put his arm around my shoulders while he reminisces about us? It's a dumb move, but it feels good to have an arm around me, especially through the warm haze of alcohol. Besides, at this point it would be awkward to extricate myself.He's teasing his fingertips along my collarbone. Just wants to talk my ass off. Still, he's always had a way with his fingers and it brings back some very nice memories of lazy afternoons in his bed.
Our conversation is very one sided; he talks, I make the appropriate noise. God his fingers feel good. I take another sip of my drink, trying to steady my nerves and ignore the tingling anticipation he's making me feel. I know where his fingers want to go. He's pulled me against him and I have to admit, I forgot how nicely I fit up against him. It's been a while since I had a boyfriend and it feels nice to snuggle up with a warm body. But it feels right just leaning against him feeling his fingers teasing through my hair.
I have to twist my neck a little to see him smiling down at me. "Do you ever think about the old days." He asks
I thought about it "I do" I said he smiled and nodded before I can really think his hand is on my cheek, turning my face to his. He strokes my face as he kisses me. I forgot how soft his lips were, or his confident, deliberate rhythm. This is bad, really bad, but it feels so good to let myself get carried away by it. His hands run over my dress and I remember how good they felt on my bare skin. As the kiss breaks I look out at the crowd on the floor. We're in a corner booth, pretty well hidden but anyone that cares to look can see us. I shift uncomfortably in the seat, torn between being a lady and backing away and being a bitch and fucking him.
"You want to get out of here?" he asks, sweet and gentle as can be.
"Sure" I said and we went ahead and left, the drive back to the camp was a very eventful one. I'm trying to save some face, brushing some hair away from my face when I feel his fingers stroking my hair, his lips finding the curve where my neck meets me shoulder and working it. I start to protest, but then I feel his hand on my knee and I melt, fumbling for the words again and not finding them. It's moving up my thigh, under my skirt.
We talked about where to go his room or back to mine we go to his and once inside we go right to his room and he attacks my mouth kissing me. He scoops me up in his arms so my breasts are level with his face, kissing through my cleavage as he pushes me back against the wall. I wrap my legs under his ribs, fingers laced behind his head, drawing his hungry mouth to my nipples. He knows better than to go straight there though. He holds back, teasing just along the edges and making me grunt some desperate, urgent sounds before he lays his tongue flat across the nub of my breast and licks. I squeeze him with my legs as he flicks my nipple with his tongue.
He moves from the wall right to his bed as he lies in between my legs kissing and holding me. We must have kissed for about an hour straight and I guess he must have come to his senses because he moved off of me.He's hands starts stroking my hair and kissing my cheek. That feels nice, even though then he turns my face to him, kissing me slowly, tenderly pulling me to him. We lay there kissing till we both fall asleep.
