Ethan - In the Eye of the Storm

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The Grove

Westchester, New York

2nd year drama


She bends over the sign she's painting and touches up the lettering. She's concentrating so hard, she runs her tongue around her top lip. It makes my mouth go dry.

That tongue.

More than two weeks ago it was doing things to me that I can't think about without becoming painfully hard. And now it's being wasted on her top lip.

Her top lip doesn't need it. I do.

I also need her hands, and face, and legs, and brain, and words, and ...

Shit.

I exhale and rub my eyes.

This is ridiculous.

I'm a twenty-two-year-old man. I shouldn't be this distracted by a hot girl. I was never this horny, even as a teenager. And yet, now I can't stop thinking about sex.

Well, not sex in general. Sex with her. And it's not just sex, it's ... complicated.

Once upon a time, I tried really hard to be her boyfriend. I knew my issues were strangling me, but I thought maybe, just maybe, the intensity of my feelings for her would somehow win out.

They didn't.

After I took her virginity, my feelings exploded, and I went into a kind of emotional free fall that destroyed everything in its path. Us included.

In a nutshell, I ruined the best thing that has ever happened to me.

For a while I thought it was for the best, and then for a year after that, I tried to get her out of my system.

Hah.

As if that were possible. Her name is tattooed on every cell. Inscribed bone deep on my heart and body.

Getting her out of my system was never an option.

Then, one fateful night, a million years after we broke up, I offered to drive her home from a party. I practically begged her to invite me in for a drink, and after that ...

Well, after that I proved how very not-over-her I was.

I don't remember much about what happened that night, because the amount of tequila we'd consumed made the whole thing blurry, but I do remember the following morning. I remember waking up naked next to her. My body had clearly been alerted to her presence well before I'd gained consciousness, because my dick was at full attention and aching like a sonuvabitch. I remember us both agreeing that getting back together would be a terrible mistake. And I most definitely remember abruptly ending the conversation by pinning her to her bed and fucking her within an inch of her life.

The sex that morning was ... well, I don't even have words. After suffering without her for so long, being inside her again was almost too much to bear.

Since then, we've been playing this weird game of cat and mouse. We never plan on having sex, but it somehow keeps happening, and now I find myself obsessing about when it's going to happen again.

I can feel my blood heat as images from our recent naked adventures flood my mind.

The things she does to me are so powerful, they can't be described. And it's not just the standard laundry-list of hormones and lust, either. It's a whole mess of other stuff. It seeps through the pores of our skin whenever we're together. Passes between our mouths when we kiss. Sparks through our hands when we touch. Makes my head spin when I'm as deep inside her as I can be.

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