Never Been Kissed

The Wet, Glass Bottle

And, yet again, there they are at the door of my apartment, kissing goodbye like they'll never see each other again. Like the damn world was ending.

God, I can't stand it.

I can't pinpoint why I hate it so damn much, but it may very well be linked to the fact that (1) I hate Dolores or (2) it's the same thing everyday. Seriously. I feel like my life is on repeat with this broad.

I eventually heard the door close. "It's about damn time," I announced, looking back at him as he walked into the kitchen.

"You really hate her, huh?" he asked, walking back into the living room and hanging on the door.

I shrugged. "I know you like her and all, but yea... I really just... don't."

"D'you want a Coke?" he asked quickly.

"I'm good."

"Mkay," he walked away. "Wait, but, why?"

"I'm not all that thirsty, I got my water here," I answered.

He chuckled, walking back into the living room with a cola bottle in his hand. "No, no. Why don't you like Dot?" His soda can made a pop and smoke came out of the top of it after he pushed the cap off as he sat down next to me.

I waited. "Dunno," I decided on. "She just irks me."

"She irks you?" He came back, taking a sip of his Coke. "Steve... how?"

"I can't explain it," I looked away. "She just does. I don't even know why, but she's just one of those people for me, I guess."

"Nah, I get that," he replied. "Some people are just annoying for no reason and, although I don't personally see it, I can understand what you mean."

I smiled. "So... did you tell her you were giving me, er, lessons?"

He took a deep breath in. "I was gonna, but then I changed my mind. I thought maybe you wouldn't take to it all that well or that it'd maybe embarrass you... so I just figured it was best to say nothing."

"Thanks."

"Don't worry about it," he took another sip before leaning over to place the wet, glass bottle onto a coaster on the coffee table. "So, shall we begin?"

"I suppose I'm as ready as I'll ever be- go for it," I encouraged him, placing my drawing stuff onto the side table nearest me and on my right.

"I've never done this before, so bear with me on this; I don't even really know where to start," he detailed.

"At the beginning. How does... one... start?"

"One of you has to make the first move to lean in," he said. "Usually, people tend to lean towards the right- but know that, obviously, some people don't."

"Got it. Almost always right, but mind the percent error," I smiled.

He smirked. "You always have a more sophisticated way of saying it, don't you? I'm starting to think that you'd be a better teacher than me."

"Perhaps I could be, you know, if I had literally any experience at all," I chuckled.

"Fair enough," he went on. "Anyway, once you start... you don't wanna rush into it. Start slow, it's more sensual and builds the tension better."

I nodded, taking mental notes of everything I possibly could.

"If you feel her getting into it, you wanna, you know, go a little deeper," he continued. "Open your mouth a little more and let your lips just kind of...move more fluidly around hers."

I felt my face start to blush- god, I knew this would happen! It's inevitable that something so unknown and... of this nature... would have this effect on me.

"Then, tongue," I heard him say, making me swallow the lump that had formed in my throat. "Do. Not. Shove. It. In. Her. Mouth."

"Okay, okay. No shoving," I repeated, kicking off my shoes and sitting with my knees up on the couch.

"It's like a dance. Lick her lips and her tongue and be soft about it, don't be too rough just yet- that's for later," he smirked at me.

I looked down at that notion, wondering what the hell had gotten into me.

He went on talking about everything and I just listened, wanting to get the most out of it as I could, while also figuring out what I was doing to myself.

It hadn't occurred to me before, but I think it makes a hell of a lot of sense, now that I look at it.

I've never been with a dame, not once. Hell, I hadn't even thought about it until Bucky brought it up to me regarding the dance... it hadn't bothered me, but I thought nothing of it. I was just being me.

What I hadn't thought about, though, was that I was different from most people I knew. Yea, guys talk about this kinda stuff when they hang out, but just listening to him now-

"You wanna mix it up with the tongue, let it pull away in some moments, while others you can just go wild with it and let it get a little messy. Sometimes... the messier it is, the more fun it becomes."

-I'm seriously getting a hard on right now. Seriously. 

Damn it, I'm imagining what he's saying, but it's not with any dames I know or even one I could have made up in my head.

It's with him.