Straight Boys

More Than Straight

Zachary leaned almost all of his body into mine, causing me to stumble back in surprise from not only how heavy he was, but also because he had his lips attached to mine. He was kissing me! His chest stuck to mine like glue, and our hips clashed together like glasses clinking in a toast. I grunted out in a mixture of both frantic shock and... mild pleasure. He grabbed at my cheeks, gripping his fingers all the way down to my jawline and into my hair, running his prints into my skull for safe keeping. All the while, I had no clue what to do. I stood frozen in place, with my hands slightly raised at my sides, unsure of what the Hell I should have been doing.

Unlike the first kiss we had minutes ago, where it was short and to the point and I barely lived it, this kiss, oh this fucking kiss. This kiss was long, drawn out, and unrestrained. Zachary's lips practical devoured mine with so much need and hunger, as if I was his last meal before his death sentence. He clung on harder to my face, to the point where his hands started slipping in all different directs. One was going up, up to angle my head so that he could have better access to my lips, and the other was gliding down, below my ribs to pull me impossibly closer.

It was like he was willing me to kiss him back. He wanted me to kiss him back.

I wanted to kiss him back.

The last straw that broke the barrel, and had me pushing Zachary up against the side of the house - where a fuckton of toilet paper was draped - so he wasn't using my body for support, that made me tie my hands into his wavy hair and kiss him back with just as much force and passion and with heavy anger, was when he was about to pull away. When the feeling of his lips weakened against mine, I knew I had to act fast. So I finally responded back. I poured all my emotions from the past few days into that kiss.

I fucking kissed Zachary Rogers.

He groaned against my fast moving lips, using his mouth to push open my mouth wider. Then, our tongues were dancing to a beat that only we could hear, battling each other to the tapping of war drums. Maybe it was the beat of our hearts pumping electric blood through our veins. My heart was beating its way through my chest cavity wanting the kiss to never end. Our lips moved together in sinc, burning with an intense fire I had never felt with any girl I'd been with so far.

The kiss was sloppy, animalistic and lacking in precision, but that was okay. It may have been because I was not completely sober, and Zachary was wasted to oblivion, but that was okay.

It felt so amazing.

It felt right.

But it had to come to an end. We needed to take a breath. I needed to take a breath, specifically because I suddenly remembered that I had just been fighting with him not even two minutes ago. I was supposed to be furious with him, yet it was like all the emotions I had been feeling towards him were sucked out of my body by his lips. I was left speechless, but not defenceless. With just a kiss, I was done. But this wasn't just any kiss; it a kiss with Zachary.

I wasn't ready. I wasn't fucking ready!

I wanted more, but fuck, not right then. I wasn't ready.

I sharply inhaled, roughly pushing against Zachary's shoulders to detach ourselves. I took two giant steps back away from him, putting some much needed space between us as I stood there, trying to process what I just did. What we had just done. I kept my eyes focused on him, making sure his drunken self wouldn't try to kiss me again.

I fucking kissed Zachary Rogers!

Zachary looked fucked up, though, as I kept staring at him. He was really drunk. He was so drunk, he could barely hold himself up right, or open his eyes fully, or do much of anything besides lick his lips and grin like a stupid idiot. I narrowed my eyes.