DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry # 117 - man of golden words

So here we are now. Sean and I, just the two of us, sprawled on one of the few couches in the VIP booth. I mean, he's half sprawled on the couch, with one arm around my shoulders, and I'm sprawled on him, legs thrown on his lap, butt on the couch, and as my very usual, head on his chest. We are enjoying a much deserved moment of elusive chill and semi snuggles, after we came back from the restroom with nostrils full of white powder, a raging high, and enlarged pupils. I don't know how we ended up doing cocaine in the toilet stall, but it happened almost naturally, and I won't complain, because I lowkey needed a fix, and I know he did too.

We were at the bar, talking nonsense and laughing with our friends, in front of the empty glasses of the drinks once offered by Jesus Christ of Bethlehem ... I mean, Mr. Cornell, when Sean decided to randomly grab me by the waist and put me with my feet on the floor. He hopped off his stool, he held my hand, walked me to the restroom, and we kissed all the way there, until he slammed the door behind our backs. He snuggled me in the first available toilet stall, he pinned me against the wall, and we made out until my panties became sticky. I thought he wanted to fuck and finish what he started in the toilet at the bar, for how hungrily we were kissing... but I had to change my mind the moment he pulled away from me, slid a hand into his belt bag, flaunted a tiny bag of powder, and his credit card with it. The message was clear: he wanted to sniff more than he wanted to fuck, and I welcomed his instance to get wasted with me with a big, chuffed grin. I offered him my travel size mirror, he laid two lines of powder on it, and we just fucking snorted together, until there wasn't one single sprinkle of devil's flour left on the mirror. The high kicked into us pretty quickly, and we exchanged one wired look, before we started to make out against the wall, all over again.

Plot twist... we didn't have sex. We didn't do anything else but kissing, grinding, and touching a lot. Standard Sean x Cherry stuff, we've been functioning like that since the very first time we met. We only decided to put a damper on our lustfulness when he was touching me, I was giving him a lovely handy, and we were both quite close to coming. I mean, he decided that, and I stuck with it, because he said that it was just the beginning of what he would've done to me once back at the hotel. I'm packing up so much latent horniness that the hearty side of me wouldn't be afraid to straddle and take him in right here and right now, fuck the wait and fuck the hotel. Fuck the audience too, because I just couldn't care any less about it. But the good, tame girlfriend part of me is prevailing, because babe's mood swung from horny to total sweetheart-like, and I'm vibing with it a lot. I bloody love my babe and his mood swings, all of them, even the violent ones ! Five minutes ago, he was pinning me against the wall, kissing my neck, rubbing his cock against my pussy, and telling me that he's lucky he gets to fuck it everyday, because it's so pretty it makes a man melt. A man, a single man. Notice the subtleness of this guy! I became a fucking puddle on the spot, and he grinned the grin of someone who always knows what to tell to a lady, in order to big her up. A mood swing after, now we're here, laying on the couch, away from our friends and from recreational drugs, and having super cute, elusive, lazy snuggles. He's twirling a strand of my red coils around his pointer finger, he's kissing my forehead, and I'm melting another kind of melt now. Fingers trailing between his loose, wavy strands, I use my free hand to grab a fistful of his t-shirt, and I pull him closer to me. Our foreheads touch, our lips meet, and we kiss slowly and passionately, 'til my mind is blown, and 'til my fingers are sore from all that rubbing his hair. He parts our lips, and looks at me with a sprinkle of... something I wouldn't be able to describe, in his eyes. He looks like he's coked up big time, and he is. But there's more than just cocaine in his stare, and I just can't seem to figure out what it is. No one in this life has ever looked at me like this... so, I suppose it's okay, if I don't know what the hell's going on with my lover.