" we need to talk Lauren." Chris said barley even below a whisper. She stepped aside to let him in.
" What do you want to talk about ? Are you okay ? Well never mind dumb question." Lauren said all at once.
" Did Joel break up with you ? Also , to answer your question , no." He replied.
" So you knew he was going to break up with me ?! How long has he been planning this ? Wait , do you know why ?" The Cuban asked all that once.
" He wasn't planning it Lauren. He broke up with you because of me." Chris whispered looking at her straight into her green eyes.
" What ? You need to explain." She said
" Lauren , this is going to sound crazy but , before I even met you I dreamed of you." The boy began to explain.
" Yo te soñé , te hice el amor. Tu eras mía antes de conocerme. I already liked you before meeting you." He finished off " the boys knew about it too."
She sat their stunned. Lauren then spoke up " if you really made love to me prove it to me."
" are you sure ?" Chris asked and she nodded.
He leaned in and their lips met. Chris kissed her softly , gently , and with so much passion. Next , he swiftly picked her up off of the couch and carried her into her room. Gently , he laid her on the bed.
Behind her there was a clock , he slightly smirked when he read the time. It was 9:30pm just like the dream.
Chris once again connected their lips as he hovered over her. She tugged at the bottom of his hoodie signaling for him to take it off. The more kisses , the less clothing.
When Chris made it to her hips he stopped and was distracted for some time. She tugged onto his hair as soft moans escaped her lips. Chris definitely knew how to please her.
" are you ready ?" Chris asked with a smirk.
" stop teasing me." Lauren groaned and he laughed.
She began to laugh as well but , her laugh was soon replaced by moans as he had his length inside of her.
To say the least , Lauren was stunned and impressed.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
