DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #47 - that's amore

'Can I bring some wine while you guys choose what to eat?' The waiter, whose resemblance with Tony Montana is so uncanny it almost freaks me out, addresses Sean and I, sitting down around our table of choice. Our table of choice being the one in the far end of the dining room, very discreet and very suitable for two elusive people like us. We still haven't taken a look at the menu, we've just been wasting time looking at eachother, laughing, smirking and flirting. I've been playing a bit with the rings on his fingers, giggling like an idiot and reviving all of what we've been all up to, before we hopped on his Kawasaki and he took me out to dine at the Italian restaurant, like promised.

We flirted a lot in the Marriott hotel lobby, while I was out there talking to my girly pals and he was having a drink and pretending to fuck Cuntrell from behind. Courageous, but deliriously funny. We finally caught up when he got the keys to his room, and that was pretty much the moment we disappeared from everyone's sight for the rest of the night. We took the elevator, and we kissed like horny fucks for eight floors worth. The businessman in a suit and tie who bumped into us while the elevator doors opened at our floor, rolled his eyes in disgust and disappointment at the scene of me pinned against the floating wall with my legs wrapped around my beau's lap. But we didn't care. Rule number one of Sean and Cherry: never care.

We kept making out for all of the corridor, my legs still wrapped around his lap and our tongues doing the horny waltz thing. Horny, damn yes, but when we got inside his room, we were oddly tranquil. We relaxed a bit, we laughed a lot about our own horniness, we shared a beer... and at some point, we just rolled our eyelids down and took a nap, all cuddled up, for something like ten minutes. We woke up, kissed, played a bit, until he stood up and went to take a shower. I waited for him while smoking a few cigarettes and giving my cockatiel all the cuddles. He came back to me, towel wrapped around his hips and dripping water from his hair, with the attitude of someone who doesn't even remotely know how good looking he is. I welcomed the sight of him with a cheeky smirk, he crawled to me, and we began our usual, super extended foreplaying routine all over again.

We didn't fuck, we just rubbed an awful lot n' finished the game that we'd started in the tour bus, and I gave him some real damn loving head. I gave him head, head he never really asked for, he became literal putty in my hands, and he used his own hands to get me off while I was at it. I came, he came and made a fucking mess of me and of the bedsheets, because he's a lil bit clumsy. We kissed, we snuggled a bit, and he fell asleep on top of me. I rubbed his hair for a little while, until I slipped off from underneath his sleepy self, and I went to take a shower. When I walked back to the bedroom with a towel around my bust, he was still sleeping soundly. I kissed his lips, he opened his eyes for a split second and uttered a 'two more minutes', before he rolled his eyelids down again. Babe kept napping, and I went to get changed into something decent for a first date night out. I slipped into a long, sleeveless red dress, smeared some matching red lipstick on my lips, refreshed my cologne and put on a pair of big hoops.

Way more than two minutes after, he wasn't up just yet. So I decided to raid through his suitcase and look for some clothes to arrange his fit for the night. I picked, of course, the less ugly things I could find in there : the only pair of long pants he brought along, denim, patchworked and very ugly, but never as ugly as the checkered shorts he was wearing the night I met him. I picked one of the ten, identical, all white T-shirts he stuffed in his suitcase. And finally, a not very ugly, but quite odd, red and black paisley print shirt. I'm such a romantic, that I think that our outfits gotta match, when we go out. And surprisingly, when I finally managed to wake him up from his much deserved nap, he slipped into the clothes I'd chosen for him and he seemed quite chuffed with the final outcome.

It took him a bit to get all dressed up, though, he was far too distracted by the sight of me. He couldn't take his eyes off me, he couldn't stop calling me beautiful like its my first given name, he couldn't stop kissing my neck and squeezing my ass... and Jesus, we were this close to screwing. But in the end we didn't, because we had a mutual agreement to go hit the Italian restaurant, and we were running late on all of our nonexistent schedules. Which means, we were fucking starving, and the hunger for food was far stronger than the hunger for sex.