If being gay sends you to hell, and kissing another guy means you're gay, why did this feel so damn right?
Everything around us was silenced, and disappeared into thin air. The only thing real was this. The only thing real was him.
His lips tasted faintly of chocolate and cheap chapstick. They fought against mine in an endless battle and when I bit them, they became a dark pink.
"Jake..." he breathed, a slight excitement in his voice.
I didn't care what he had to say. All I needed was more. More of my favorite drug. More than one taste. I needed it all.
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I began looking for the most vunerable place on Adam's pale neck.
Little noises escaped his mouth everytime I did it. It was nearly a desperate whine at this point.
"J-Jake...cut that-" he was interrupted by a new noise that made me shudder. It escaped his throat in a smooth, drawn-out exhale. It was music to my ears.
Found it.
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I would say we had hot, kinky, mind-blowing orgasmic sex; but then I'd be lying.
Adam was shy, and insisted we at least date for awhile before anything. His face was so red, and he was kind of awkward after the fact.
"So..." I tried. "Wanna go vandalize some shit?"