A/N Ok this started off as my friend Christopher being a little bitch and telling me I couldn't write for shit unironically so this is me proving him wrong lmao. Now he owes me five bucks and you all get to read it so win win
Joe couldn't seem to concentrate on anything at all. All day his mind was flooded with images of her.
Nothing else mattered. All he wanted anymore was to dig his thumbs into that pretty little waist, and plow into her until he was completely enveloped by her screams. To feel her soft hands on his back, nails digging into the base of his neck, pulling him closer to her heaving chest until he couldn't pull away even if he wanted to. He wasn't sure if the girl even knew her own strength at times.
The feeling of her hot breath on his ear, whining and gasping softly, almost incomprehensibly pleading for him to go deeper, to never stop...that alone was enough to make his head spin.
The feeling was mutual, at least from what he'd gathered. It seemed like she just couldn't get enough of him. Sometimes it was even hard to keep up with her. She had so much more energy than him, which was to be expected...but still.
Her thirst was nothing short of unquenchable. Sometimes he would be standing in the kitchen, or looking out the window—doing absolutely nothing in particular, and feeling her gaze on him. By the time he turned to meet her eye, she was already on him, moaning softly into his ear, slipping a hand into his shirt. Leaving a trail of increasingly frantic kisses along his jawline and down his neck. Grabbing his wrist and guiding him into her panties so she could show him, firsthand, just how much she needed him.
She was so young, so passionate, so full of a kind of lust for life that was foreign to him. Maybe she was just different than the people he had spent his life around. Maybe she was just different.
And she was just so damn pretty.
He found himself enjoying the afterglow as much as the sex. After he rolled off her, or she off him, (depending on the circumstances which were usually, embarrassingly enough, his level of energy,) he would always watch her.
Skin flushed, panting, breasts heaving from exhaustion. Tiny beads of sweat decorating her forehead, lips parted and swollen. Eyes fluttered shut in perfect serenity. Tears streaming down the side of her face, catching the light from the window behind her that illuminated the girl's beautiful body.
She loved that window. Joe wondered if that was the reason she had moved into this particular flat in the first place. He couldn't tear her away from it. Usually after they had sex, she would make him watch them with her. Even though at his age an orgasm had him completely spent, he somehow always managed to stay awake long enough to indulge the girl. Just until the last sliver of the sun dipped behind the LA horizon. Only then would he allow himself to drift off, tangled up with her under the sheets.
It was the closest thing to heaven he knew he would ever experience. To purity. It was truly the only time he knew peace.
Joe had been a skeptic all his life. Growing up in New York, he had to be. Always questioning everything, denying, confirming. Denying again. Racking his brain for answers. Answers that logic could provide. It didn't matter how seemingly unsolvable a situation was. There was always an answer. For some reason, he just couldn't figure this one out.
Maybe he had finally found something supernatural.
A/N my therapists says my chronic depression manifests itself in destructive behavior I'm beginning to see what she means
A/N 2: The sequel: fuck you Chris I'm getting real tired of your goddamned shit maybe if you weren't a overly critical fucking soy boy cuck with mommy issues you'd get some pussy unlike me an absolute fucking coochie chad master stop assuming you know everything about modern art and accept I'm better than you. Suck my clit
