Forbidden Fruit

Coitus

My heavy arm rested around his broad shoulders, while his was wound tightly around my waist as we helped each other stagger towards my apartment.

We were both fighting losing battles to keep our drunken laughter gated. What exactly was so funny I can't remember, but it was incredibly hilarious nonetheless.

I held a finger over my puckered lips, and shushed us. "Seriously, we have to be quiet, or my grumpy neighbors are going to fucking kill me." He tightly sealed his lips, making his laughter travel though his nose and thundering snorts filled the hallway instead. "Mrs. Hansen in 3b already has a bounty on my head."

"What did you do? Steal her newspapers?" He whispered, with a voice thick with amusement.

"A case of dingdong-ditch, but it was all dingdong and not so much ditch."

He laughed into his hand to stifle it. "So, what? You just rang her doorbell?"

"Smart ass," I mumbled into his warm chest through a laugh. "No, and yes. I rang her doorbell, but I tripped during my getaway, or at least that's what Julie told me."

We finally reached my front door at the end of the long hall. Well it wasn't long, but in my current state it just seemed longer than usual. Ville leaned away from me, but only barely, when I reached into my purse. The muffled rattling of metal-to-metal emitted from my overfilled keychain inside the depths of my black leather purse assured me that my searching hand was close. I grasped them in my hand and fished them out, and dangled them in front of us making the ratting fine, and clear like fingers randomly running over a chime row. "Bingo!"

I bent over at a 90 degree angle by my hips to level my eyes with the keyhole. It all happened in one, much too quick and uncoordinated motion, making my forehead clunk against my door. "Ugh fuck." He cleared his throat to mask another laugh. "Hey I heard that! Don't laugh, this is a lot harder than it looks... if the pesky keyhole would just stop moving," I whispered as I tried to place the key into its respective hole.

He held my waist in his wide hand span and I forgot all about what I was doing, or what year it was. All I could think about was how his fingers felt, as they dug into the bare skin by my side. Damn crop-tops. Everything south of his touch went numb, and gravity began pulling me into the floor.

He tightened his grip, and pressed me closer, "Woah Bambi, let me help you."

The way he was holding me did exactly nothing for my weak knees, and before I had time to comprehend anything other than the warmth of his grasp, his face was suddenly next to mine. "Oh, hi."

"Hi," he repeated, while flashing me a toothy grin. "You're right."

"Huh?"

His head turned to the vertical brass bullseye. "The keyhole," he began as he placed his free hand on mine to help guide the key, "it's fucking everywhere."

My forehead dropped through his hair and into the crook of his neck, as drunken giggles consumed me. Then, without much consideration, or self-awareness I began snuggling deeper into the comfortable warmth. His arm around my midsection, which held me securely to his side, tightened as I leaned further into him.

The key finally turned with a click.

My forehead resting on his neck felt the vibrations of the words that my ears didn't hear. "Hmm?" I hummed.

He stood up, and I followed him into an upright position. My face slowly slide out from where it lied nested and down to rest on his chest. He let go of my hand still holding the key in the lock, to comb his fingers through my hair and brush it behind my ear where it lingered. I lifted my head and looked up at him. My heart went from zero to sixty in exactly two seconds, making me feel unbelievably lightheaded. It got even worse when I meet his eyes. The gentleness he held in them almost felt like a physical caress, and a familiar heat I'd felt between my thighs since the first time I saw him, amplified tenfold.