Wednesday, August 28, 2002
Monday, August 26, 2002
He’d been a perfect stranger, whom she just met. Same college, nothing more. She didn’t feel safe in his dorm room. Now, she knew why. She saw the bulge in his pants. His eyes all over her from the first moment, she’d known better. Still, this was how things were. This was how she was expected to behave, so when he’d reached across the room and his mouth found hers, she let him in completely submissive.
He’d taken her breath away. She had been kissed like this before that wet sloppy all over anxious kiss. She knew what was going to happen, and she let it. Let him take her to the bed, licking all over her neck, wanting to have her, own her. Her brain was having trouble; it couldn’t decide the appropriate behavior. Had she gone to far with his breath on her skin? Not far enough? Was she a tease? Or a slut? It was so hard to figured out what she was supposed to do.
When he’d finally let her free, she dived right back. Asking, no demanding he take off his shirt. The wolf in him was only too happy to oblige. She touched him, fingers on his skin. And he touched her, tops of her arms, gentle at the side. It wasn’t all bad cuddled up like that, but then he demanded another kiss. Another taste for her to savor, and she did.
It made her stomach roll when his tongue was in her mouth. The tip of his was touching the roof of hers. Oh, god, oh god She sucked his tongue. It was a quest to regain some type of control. Perhaps, if she explored his mouth she’d feel better about it. Somehow it’d twisted in its act, and now it was bizarre, something she hadn’t even done with those much closer. His arms went around her midriff barely touching at her skin and just under her clothes. He told her she was beautiful. Nobody, certainly not a stranger had every said that. What was she doing? It was so volatile. Even in her dreams she’d never been so forward.
Submissive, it was everything she hated about those girls. The ones waited while their boyfriends talked to their friends. They were always so quiet, so demure. They carefully disguised their feelings patiently waiting. They sat there like warm Barbie Dolls with their fake plastered smiles when the hurt was clearly written on their faces. Was she destined to be like that? No! Her body was up before she knew racing to get away. She got up polite said her thanks yous and goodbyes. Home in an instant free of him and his taste.
She sat there with the brush still in her mouth, her hands raw from washing. She supposed she should feel safe, free, relaxed. Instead, she still felt like a slut. He had her number, and what else would she do for a little of that touch.