Stuck with a Punk ✔

No. 52.: Thoughtful

If you are uncomfortable reading erotic scenes, know that they can be skipped. They are marked with a bolded heart where the scenes begin and end.

Her lips perk against mine. It's a soft feathery kiss, sweet and gentle, similar to the one she gave me when Mr Ritchie came to visit.

I slowly put my hands on the small of her back, hugging her around her hips. I pull her closer to me and before her body leans against mine, she puts both of her hands on my chest.

They're still at first and she keeps them in one place, but soon she stretches her fingers to cover the wider surface of my chest. Her fingertips dig into my shirt and the skin underneath, but her touch is as light as her kiss is.

I tighten our embrace and pull her even closer. I want all of her body pressed against mine, and as I do exactly that, I feel her elbows and the entire length of her forearms against the sides of my abdomen. I pull her in such a deep embrace my hands intertwine around her body.

She's not really skinny, but just fit. She's soft and welcoming to the touch, something I appreciate much more than a flat stomach or the feel of woman's ribs against my own.

A sequence of soft kisses, as enjoyable as they are, are driving me crazy. I want to deepen it, to feel the soft and hot embrace of her lips. Slowly and softly I deepen it. There is no need to rush, it would just ruin everything we've built up until now.

Deepening is an action deeply appreciated by Annabelle. The moment she feels my tongue slowly invade, she splits her lips in haste as if she's waited for me to do that for way too long.

Her hands that were just a moment ago too busy with my chest, stretch over and reach around my neck. By doing so, she squeezes our bodies together, tilts her head more to the side and gives our kiss the chance to spring to life with passion.

If I kept my eyes open, I'd automatically roll them back in pleasure and the intoxicating feeling I get whenever Annabelle and I kiss.

Lightly I brush my hands up and down her hips, reach over the small of her back, then travel up and down her spine.

Half a minute later, Annabelle's kiss becomes distant and both her tongue and lips are retreating back, which I'm not happy about at all.

I refuse to let go of her and keep the kiss sealed. I don't want her to tear away from me, so I follow her. When she takes one step, I do too. But soon enough, my cogs turn in the right direction and I realise she's not escaping me, but getting me to the bedroom.

I'm not a particularly obedient man, never was, but when Annabelle implies the direction with her kisses, I follow her as if that's what I've always done - obeyed orders.

I stay close to her, never letting go of her waist, waiting for the opportunity to give her a sudden wave of passion. Right before we enter the bedroom, when we're caught between the doorframes, I grab her with more strength than before and press her against the doorframe as my lips hungrily seek for hers.