𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐬 𝐀 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐧 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡

𝖙𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞

Three weeks, four days, two hours, and eight minutes. That's how long I've had a boyfriend.

but who's keeping track?

Well, I guess he's my boyfriend, Saint and I haven't formally had that conversation, but after that day I almost left, after the way we kissed-the words we exchanged, I'm pretty sure it was safe to say he was my boyfriend.

We definitely moved like a couple, we kissed, made out-we've been learning eachother.

Honestly, I guess you could even say we cuddle, but that's mostly just me lying on his chest.

We haven't had sex, and trust me, I want to- I'm just waiting for him to make the move. Some people are like, 'I wanna wait until I'm sure they're the one', and I definitely get that mindset-but still-we're adults.

I'm not sure how much more making out I could physically handle before I exploded.

I don't know what's being going on with me lately, but my sex drive has been out of control. At first, I just thought it was due to my sexual frustration and me being widely attracted to Saint, but at this point, I'm pretty sure it went even beyond that.

My body literally reacted to everything he did, and I'm talking about everything.

The way he walked, breathed, talked-just the way he existed turned me on, and I don't think that was exactly normal.

I think he's noticed too, Every time we've made out I swear I've been losing myself, like genuinely. It's almost like I needed it-and I've never been that type of hypersexual person.

Honestly, I think he was putting off having sex with me-for whatever reason, and I felt like if I just came out and told him I wanted to do it after only a few weeks of 'dating', then I'd look sex obsessed and desperate.

It wasn't even just like I could masturbate and be done with it, one-I live with Saint, so it was rare I was home alone. Two, the sexual hunger I had wasn't something that could be quenched with masturbation-I felt like I desired his touch, and it was only that which could satisfy me.

Even now as I lay on his chest, enjoying the calmness of his heartbeat, my body was basically on fire with desire-and all I could do was suppress it.

We slept here every night-for some reason, he didn't want to sleep in the bed. I asked why, but each time he'd just say he didn't wanna talk about it, which I respected.

I just chalked it up to one of those things he'd eventually tell me, whenever he was ready and comfortable.

Gently I shifted my head up so I could stare at him, but his hand lay rested over his eyes which usually happened when he was preparing to fall asleep.

I didn't wanna disturb him, but clearly, I had already done that because he spoke up, "You straight?" He asked, without even having to look at me, I guess he sensed me looking.