lips pouted at a perfect angle; eyes directed towards the floor; hair messy and probably tangled. he hasn't shaved in a few days, and it was hot. the kind of hot that trickled down the small of his back, the kind of hot that made his hair curl on the ends at the nape of his neck, and the kind of hot that made people think about fucking.
back against the cold concrete, pressed into the unmoving wall, and he was struggling to catch his breath. curious fingertips tracing skin on fire, and his shirt's on the floor somewhere. she's whispering into his neck things his mother should never hear. and she can feel his heart thudding against his ribs, faster. fingernails dragging down his back. faster. lips lingering on his shoulder and back up his neck. faster. she can taste his sweat. can't stop now.
breathing quickens. lips hover above one another, and that cold concrete feels so damn good because he's burning. biting his lip, she demands more and whispers in his mouth, "i want you."
fuck.
i want you.
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You always keep me guessing...
ReplyDeletelol there's not a lot to guess about with this one.
ReplyDeleteWell, I meant whether this was fantasy or reality. Everything has a little reality, it's just a matter of whether it dominates the writing or fantasy takes the reigns.
ReplyDeletei suppose. i never really bother much with trying to sort them out. i guess i just like being vague with how i want people to feel and think about my writing; i guess it's my way of trying to be remembered as a writer. i'm hoping it works. thanks for reading, though!
ReplyDeleteHeh, you really need to stop thanking me. It makes me feel like I'm breaking in to someone's home and they thank me for admiring their art. It would make more sense for you to tell me to mind my own business.
ReplyDeletepeople wouldn't have online blogs if they didn't want people prying and reading their thoughts. but if it makes you feel better, mind your own business.
ReplyDeleteYou saying we're all narcissistic? I mean, I am but we all aren't. I kinda wish we had another way of communicating instead of talking all over your blog.
ReplyDeletep.s. I'm no good at my own business. It's boring.
actually, yes, i am saying that. if people wanted a place for their thoughts that no one would read, why not a diary? or just saved files on microsoft word? everyone knows blogging is for vain people who think their thoughts are priceless gems.
ReplyDeletekidding...kind of.
anyways, i have an email? i can't remember if it's listed here or not. i'll look.
That's a good point. Finally, someone understands that my thoughts are priceless. I think everyone has email, dummy. It's just a matter of making it public.
ReplyDeletefinally someone understands that i always make good points. and yeah i never made it public. i'll put it here, and if i get creepy emails; i'm forwarding them to you.
ReplyDeletemj55@evansville.edu
I didn't say always...
ReplyDeleteI'm totally down with creepy emails. After sending so many out it's about time I get some in return.
Here's mine: pjb4zd@mizzou.edu
So you're sitting around on the internet this Friday night just like me. Seems like a fun life.