Monday, November 15, 2010

120. Breathless

Mom, Dad, siblings, Aunt G, co-workers, close friends: It will be less awkward for all parties involved if you skipped this post. If you do decide to read it, please tell me you didn't.


I pushed him into my bedroom and started pulling his shirt over his head before he could object. Not that he would have. I threw his shirt against the wall and kicked my door shut at the same time. It was 4:40. My roommate would be getting off work at 5. Cayden reached for my shirt but I dodged him and moved across my room to pull my other door shut. By the time I turned around he was already unbuttoning his pants.

I closed the distance between us in a few strides and pressed my lips against his. His hands froze on his belt while he pushed his lips back against mine, our tongues grazing. I placed both palms on his chest and felt nothing but heat pour into them. At my touch, he remembered what he was doing and went back to work on the belt. I decided to catch up to him and broke our kiss to pull my own shirt over my head. His pants dropped to the floor and he reached for my waist, kissing my neck as his hands made their way to my button and zipper.

Button undone. Zipper unzipped. He tugged. I felt my panties start to slide down with my jeans. What the hell was I thinking wearing my tightest pair of skinny jeans when I wanted Cayden to ravage me? (Jeggins, if you will) He tugged again, and I felt a breeze on the top part of my butt cheeks. I wasn't ready for no-panty time yet. I'd planned on taking those off a little later, once things got really hot. I reached for the hem and tried to pull them up while Cayden pulled my pants down, which resulted in a 30-second tug of war and a giant wedgie. I really knew how to kill a mood.

I pushed him back on the bed and crawled over him, straddling his waist. We hadn't said a word despite a few grunts, groans, and laughs as we struggled with my jeans, but somehow the silence said everything. The eager kisses said, "Holy shit, I miss this." The soft sound of my panties rubbing against his boxer briefs said, "No, wait, I miss THIS." The sound of his hands running down my back as we kissed said, "Please, please, don't leave me."

His fingers found my bra clasp and I felt one clasp come undone. Then another. He dropped his hands, expecting my bra to fall away with them, but the third clasp was hanging on for dear life. I tried not to laugh as I felt him pull and tug and pinch and yank the last clasp until I couldn't hold it back anymore.

I sat up laughing. "Do you need help?" I asked as his hands dropped away.

He laughed as well. "What the hell is that thing? Since when do those contraptions have three hooks?" He shook his head, still laughing.

"Since they tried to hold up a pair of double Ds. Two claps just doesn't cut it."

I reached back and unsnapped it on the first try. His hands rested on my thighs, waiting to see what he'd worked so hard to reveal.

He didn't reach for them right away. He held my eye contact while I watched him watch me. Then his eyes dropped to my neck, my collarbone, pausing at my chest before he continued down to my stomach until he was looking at his own hands on my thighs. We both watched his hands move up my inner thigh until my leg started to shake in anticipation. I tried not to let my teeth chatter like they usually do when I'm excited, because there's nothing hot about your teeth slamming together at high speeds in your mouth. It sure as hell doesn't make him want to put anything in it.

Then we watched as his hands moved up my hips, up my sides, sending goosebumps up both arms and across my chest. Then we both watched as his fingers ran across the goosebumps on my chest. They disappeared as soon as he touched them (the goosebumps, not my boobs). He was erasing the goosebumps with the heat from his hand. Then he filled both hands with as much of my boobs as he could fit and met my eyes. Then he slowly pulled me down on top of him. Our chests touched. Warm skin grazing warmer skin. He was always 10 degrees warmer than me.

Our hips pressed together and I wasn't sure how much longer I could handle the fabric separating us. But at the same time I wanted it there, so make me wait a little while longer. I'd waited almost seven weeks, surely I could last another minute or two as we drove each other crazy. He pulled me up until his mouth found my chest. Tongue found nipple. Teeth met nipple. The panties had to go.

I squirmed and winced, both loving it and craving more. I wanted to say "harder," but then decided I'd look strange with only one nipple. When he pulled away, I leaned back, reaching behind me to run my fingernails up his thighs. It was his turn to squirm.

Straddling him, I could tell he couldn't stand those two thin layers of fabric between us any more than I could. His finger hooked in then hem of my panties at the hip and he looked at me as he gave it a slight tug. The look said, "Is this OK?" I gave him a look back that said, "If you don't rip my panties off within the next two seconds I'll slap you across the face and do it myself."

He heard me loud and clear.


Sweating and satisfied, I lay in the crook of his arm on my back. I stared at the ceiling fan, begging it to cool me down before my skin caught fire. I could tell my cheeks were dark red and my neck was splotchy without even seeing them. The kisses were rough. The sex was exactly what I'd been craving.

I heard a slight whistle in my breathing and begged myself not to have an asthma attack in his arms. The tug-of-war/panty wedgie incident was bad enough, quickly followed by the third bra-hook debacle. Reaching for my inhaler would just be icing on the cake.

I listened to my heart beat and breathed in rhythm with it. The wheeze started to fade and all I could hear was my heart. I felt Cayden looking at me.

"Are you OK?" he asked, his face bordered on concerned and amused.

"Breathless," I answered, turning a potential asthma attack into a corny joke.

Seconds later we heard the front door open and Stephanie jiggled her keys. We both clung to each other, trying to stay quiet but laughing at the thought that Stephanie had missed me high the high notes by two minutes or less.


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