Mrs All American - luke

17

L U K E

A few days later, I'm standing outside of Sam's front door. I knock twice and wait for the door to open. It feels like I've been standing out here for five minutes and when I hear music blasting from the other side of the door, I decide to just let myself in.

A song I don't know is playing in the living room as I walk slowly through the hall. What the hell? I think to myself as I step into the kitchen and set down the plastic bag I've been carrying around for the past twenty minutes. An hour ago Sam texted me, saying she was bored so I told her I'd bring her food.

I don't know why. I wish I knew what she was doing to me and why I find myself pretty much crawling to her.

I like her, but I hate her for making me want her so fucking bad.

When I look up, I see Sam sitting on the couch in the living room, looking down at the coffee table in front of her. I already know she's doing homework or studying or working on some English paper like always. I like that she cares about school and that she's doing something with her life, but I hate to see her stress like this.

She drops her pen and runs her hands through her hair. When she stands she's wearing a giant sweater and no pants. I don't understand her need to walk around in her underwear half the time, but I'm not complaining.

I stay quiet and watch her as she slowly sways her hips to the music. I'm a guy, I'm not going to stop her and I'm going to watch her. I cross my arms over my chest and try not to make any sudden movement or sounds even though she probably can't hear me. The song that's playing suddenly becomes familiar. Ashton was going crazy over this song, singing it at the top of his lungs the other day.

Touch me, yeah, I want you to touch me there. Make me feel like I am breathing.

How? How does she do that? She's just dancing and I'm over here trying to keep my shit together. I want her to grind on me like that, naked and sweaty and shaking in ecstasy. I think I've lost count of how many times I've pictured her above me, moaning my name. I bet she'd be great at it.

When I decide that I can't take it anymore, I walk around the counter and make my way over to her. I grab her from behind, making her gasp and her cheeks blush a deep red when she notices that it's just me.

"Dance with me," I tell her and press her against me. She hesitates at first, but when I take her arm and place it around the back of my neck, she physically relaxes and begins to dance. My mouth meets her neck as we slowly grind and despite the music, I hear her gasp again.

I find myself disappointed when she turns around and takes a step back. "What's w-" my words get lost in her mouth when she kisses me. I place my hands around the back of her thighs and lift her, sitting on the couch.

If I could take her on this couch right now I would, but I know for a fact I wouldn't. There's so many things I wanna do with her before it gets to that point.

By now the song has ended and the only sounds I hear are our lips smacking, our tongues in each other's mouths and our heavy breathing. I like the sounds she makes when I do something that makes her feel a little too good and I like the way she kisses me like she can't get enough of me. I like the fact that she wants me.

I pull away, afraid of how far this will go and she gently tugs at my bottom lip with her teeth. I don't know what's made me stop, I just feel like I need to be careful with her. If this happens too soon, I know I will lose interest after it happens. I know I will. The last thing I want is to fuck up. I've taken a liking to Sam and I actually enjoy her company, which is so strange to me.

"What was that?" I mumble as I play with the ends of her hair. I like her long hair.

She shrugs. "Just saying hi," she whispers and kisses both my cheeks. Her fingertips graze along my collarbones and slowly make their way down my chest. When she notices me tense under her touch, she stills and looks up at me. "Is this not okay?"