He takes my mouth with his, a hand grazing my throat like a warm, rough necklace.
"Touch me," he breathes onto my lips.
My hands slip under his shirt, over his abdomen, his muscles tight and warm against my fingertips. I touch the places on him I'...
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Middlebridge, Virginia A Friday in July, 11:59 PM
I told Brandon we could finally have sex tonight, so he drove us down County Rd 12, parked his pickup beside the treeline, and wasted no time by lifting me onto his lap.
Sharp sandalwood and sweat envelop me as he kneads my thighs, hiking my dress up.
"I thought about these legs all day, Ember. Softest things I've ever felt."
My back hits the steering wheel horn and I jolt, my heart speeding out of control.
"Tell your steering wheel to mind its business," I whisper.
Brandon chuckles, pulling me closer for a kiss that tastes like hot water and spearmint. His stubble-rough chin scraps my skin as he moves his mouth on mine. I set my hands on his shoulders, fiddling with the collar of his polo shirt, kissing him back.
"Fuck," he groans into my mouth. "I love the way you kiss, babe. It's erotic."
I pull away from him with a frown, my wet lips cool with the breeze drifting in through the open window. I kiss...erotically?
Brandon, who's 23, is almost four years older than me. Maybe he knows more about these things.
He stares at my chest, the way my sundress pushes up my breasts. The pale green linen makes me feel like a girl from a different time, one who runs through sunny fields of flowers and writes poetry about blue skies.
"I love your body." He grips my thighs, licking his bottom lip.
I pinch his chin with a little smile. "Thanks, buddy."
He sighs sharply. "What'd I say about buddy?"
I pout. "Don't call you buddy."
"Because?"
"Because you're my boyfriend."
He presses a kiss to my lips. "And I love you."
He told me he loved me on our two-month anniversary. I laughed in pure nervousness, he got mad, then I backtracked and said I needed a little more time. He said, A week? I figured that was adequate.
Tonight is exactly one week later. I don't think I love Brandon, yet.
Sex will make me feel closer to him, that's what the books and movies tell me. But I've never done it before. We've waited nine weeks. My friend Keiko said that's already too long to make a boyfriend wait.
"Brandon," I whisper, "are you sure I should be on top?"
"Yeah, babe." His thumbs are at the inner creases of my thighs now. "You take control for your first time."
"What if I break your thingy?" I look down between us. "Sorry in advance, little pal."
