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The music was loud.
Maybe it was because I stood right next to one of the speakers closest to the stage, but it was pretty damn loud. By the end of the show, my ears were ringing and my head was throbbing, but I guess it didn't matter. The music was great.
I stepped out of the back entrance of the small building after the concert, and leaned against the wall. There was another figure there, but it was too dark to see who it was, and frankly, I didn't care. I pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of my denim jacket, along with a lighter, and slid one of the cigarettes out and placed it in between my lips.
I cupped one hand around it, preventing the frigid wind from blowing it out, and struggled to light it with my numb fingers.
"Son of a bitch," I whispered, shoving the lighter back in my pocket; it was out of fluid. I mentally reminded myself to stop at the drug store and pick up another.
I looked up, and noticed that I was being watched by a shadowy man in black jeans.
I nodded my head towards him. "Ya got a light?"
He said nothing, but walked towards me, and lit my cigarette with one I hadn't noticed he was smoking.
"Thanks."
He didn't leave, however. He leaned up against the same wall as I, and blew smoke into the air.
With the dim lighting of the street lamp ahead of us, and the flame of his lighter, I could see some of his face, and boy was he sexy.
The first thing I noticed was his hair. It was a bright blue color, and was sticking up in various places. Then, momentarily, I saw his eyes. A grey-ish green that oddly matched his hair. The last thing I caught a glimpse of, was a single black earring in his right ear.
I watched him, slightly amused by the way he stared off into the distance, as if there was somewhere else he would rather be.
"Ya got a name?" He asked me quietly. He looked at me and smiled a gorgeous, crooked smile that made me want to kiss him.
I didn't answer him at first. Holding his cigarette between his index and middle fingers, he opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. "My name's Paige," I replied coolly, taking a drag from my own cigarette.
"Well Paige," he sighed, dropping his to the ground and stepping on it, "I'm Michael."
Before I could say anything, he was staring in front of me, pressing me up against the wall. He smiled again, and took the cigarette from me, dropping it to the ground.
His chest was against mine and I could feel his heartbeat. Surprisingly normal; mine was beating a mile a minute.
He leaned in, whispering in my ear, "Nice to meet you, Paige." His cold hand slid up the front of my shirt, and I could feel his lips moving slowly from my neck, to my cheekbones, and further, until I could his breath on my lips.
"What are you waiting for," he whispered, his face less than a centimeter away from mine.
I smashed my lips against his, and kissed him hard. He lifted up my leg with his hand right under my thigh, and I quickly wrapped my legs around his waist. My hands went around his neck, and his went under the back of my shirt.
Things after that moved pretty fast. He carried me through the parking lot, and didn't stop kissing me until we got to his car, a rusty blue pick-up truck. He opened the door and climbed in, with me still attached to him. I let go and he rolled over to the driver's side, not bothering to put on his seat belt before starting the car and speeding down the road.
I leaned over in my seat with a smirk, kissing his exposed shoulder. He was wearing just a tank-top, which was dumb to do in this weather.
I left a trail of rough kisses up his shoulder and collarbone. I stopped at his throat, kissing right on his adam's apple. A low moan escaped his parted lips, causing me to smile. His right hand moved from the steering wheel, to my thigh as I nipped and sucked at his adam's apple. He pressed his fingers into my jeans, and bit down on his bottom lip.
It was a short car-ride. Maybe 3 minutes, then we were at his house. I got out and slammed the passenger door, and met him in front of the car. We collided and there we were again, aggressively making out in front of his house. I placed my hands on his chest and walked forward, pushing him closer and closer to his front door.
When I stepped up onto the porch, he reached behind himself and opened the door. Apparently, he doesn't lock it.
Michael grabbed my legs and picked me up, walking me up the stairs, and setting me down in front of an opened door that I assumed was his bedroom.
I didn't think twice before walking in after him. The only thought that ran through my head was how extremely good he looked in his Sex Pistols tank.
I connected our lips, loving the way his chapped lips felt against my own softer ones. I walked forward, and pushed him onto his bed, and stood over him, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling them off. I tugged my shirt over my head, and was glad that I decided to wear my red and white bra and underwear set.
When I looked back at Michael, his shirt was thrown on the floor next to mine, and he was staring at my body. I laughed and climbed onto the bed, crawling over to him on all fours. I pushed him down onto his back, and went back to his neck, licking over the large red mark I made from before. I felt him reach for his pants. I helped him unbutton them, nearly ripping them off his legs, and returning to my place on his chest.
He surprised me, flipping us over so he laid on top, and slid his body down until he was eye-level with my belly button. He looked up at me with his grey-ish eyes and smirked.
He took the waistband of my underwear in his teeth and slowly tugged them down, his beautiful blue hair brushing over my skin and giving me goosebumps. He pulled them to my ankles and I kicked them onto the floor with my other clothes. He slithered back up and looked me in the eye.
"You're fucking gorgeous," he mumbled. It was the last thing he said to me before pulling off his boxers. I watched as he found a condom in his nightstand drawer and put it on, still hovering above me. He looked at me and I blinked. With a single nod of my head, he proceeded, and I could feel his cock inside of me.
He pulled all the way out, and back in, twice.
"Fuck me." I stated it simply. He just chuckled, in a funny way, and thrusted inside of me harder than before. I gasped, but he didn't stop. He moved faster, and thrusted harder, slamming the wooden headboard against the wall.
The pleasure built inside me, and I wrapped my legs around him, allowing him easier access.
"Shit," he moaned, grabbing one of his flat pillows and whipping it off the bed.
I whined, "Michael," going back to kissing his neck. I sucked on his adam's apple, remembering how much of an effect it had on him.
He groaned, and pushed into me, harder, making thundering noises against the wall.
With a scream, I came. He kept going, making me ride out my high. I fell onto the bed, breathing heavily as he stopped and took off the condom, throwing in the waste bin sitting next to the nightstand.
"Holy shit," he whispered, laying on his side, propped up on his elbow.
I was worn-out, and felt as if I was going to pass out. But I couldn't sleep here right? At some strangers house?
"What's the harm in one night?" My mind said to me. It had a point.
And with that, I was asleep.
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