—drawings, smiles, love
Zella Day – Sweet Ophelia (Live Acoustic recorded by The Wild Honey Pie) ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬
PARRISH:
Her game had nothing to do with sex.
It is an actual game.
I think.
Not saying I'm not into it — I'm just confused. And let's be real here: If Amelia Penney said to anyone else, "Let's play a game," what the hell would they be thinking? Especially after having sex with her for the first time — it was my immediate expectation.
I can't help it. I'm a guy, and my weakness is sex. Plus, I now know what it's like to feel Amelia completely, and I'm the only guy that ever has.
The fact that I'm the only guy that's ever been with Amelia — like that... It makes me feel, and just that. I don't want to stop feeling.
She's smiling at me. At least she's smiling at me. Her smile is really...something. It must be more than just something, since I am legitimately noticing it to the point where I can't stop noticing it.
I never thought I'd ever be thinking this much about a girl's smile. She's really done it to me now, and I'm not so sure this it is a good thing. She could very well ruin me. Destroy me from the inside out — this girl is capable of that.
"What is it, Livingston?" she giggles, as she points at the ceiling. She's standing on her bed as I sit next to her feet. She's giggling. Wow, she's really giggling, and I love that. I love it so much.
She is fully clothed, and she's pointing at her ceiling. She drew an unfamiliar drawing there on her ceiling. With a makeup utensil, I'm guessing.
I grab her ankles and pull her down onto my lap. She drops the utensil to the ground as she willingly falls into my arms. I kiss her hair as my nose senses the smell lingering off her. Fucking ginger, and daisies.
Ginger daisies.
It's a unique smell. I like it. It's a smell I wouldn't mind being trapped in my nose for all eternity. Really.
"You're a horrible artist, sweet girl," I smile. She laughs as she takes my face in her hands. And there goes my air supply.
She's a girl that can literally take my breath away — the only one, and it scares the living hell out of me.
Her legs curl in my lap against me as she studies my eyes with hers.
"What is it?" she whispers. I look back up at the ceiling.
"It looks like two stick figures having very uncomfortable sex," I admit my thoughts. It really does look like that. I'm telling her the truth of my words here.
She smirks, and I brace myself.
"That's us," she replies, as she pushes me flat on the bed. My legs automatically spread farther apart as she hovers over me — her lips surfacing the skin covering the very crease of my jaw as her legs spread to either side of my hips.
"Only it's not uncomfortable, Parrish." She kisses my jaw, and I feel myself tremble. I fucking trembled.
"No?" My voice is deeper than usual. Her hot breath hits my ear, and I curse silently.
Holy shit.
"Nope. It's very comfortable," she says, as she presses down: beautifully suffocating my manhood that used to be threatened by her presence. Now it can't seem to get enough.
I rub her back — then my hands are everywhere, and Amelia starts making these little noises that make me more determined to act. Only I am completely possessive when I touch her, and I don't want to let her go. Not ever. I know I'm selfish for that, but I don't care. She has me.
"You see the one on top?" she asks suddenly.
I rip my eyes from the cleavage spilling from the slope of her tank top to look back up at the ceiling again — daring myself.
"Mmhmm." I circle my lips over her collarbone, and she moans as her hands reach the nap of my neck.
"Yeah, that's me," she says.
I study the stick figures doodled on the ceiling again.
"Amelia, why is the one on the bottom — I mean, why is my mouth open?" I can't help the grin that plays against my lips.
Her hands trail from my neck down to my chest, and the unbelievable sparks flying through me from her touch makes my mouth slightly hang open—just like the stick figure drawn on her ceiling.
"Because the one on top — I mean, me," she smiles, as she leans up a little so I can see her face. Her smile — her eyes.
"I make you feel so good." She runs her thumb teasingly over my bottom lip that is still hanging open. "You get so excited, you can't keep your mouth closed," she grins. "You can't shut up," she whispers, as her body presses flesh against mine. Her breath runs up my neck, and I nearly lose all self-control.
I gulp. She's good at this game — whatever the hell it is.
"Are you going to fuck me?" I kiss her neck as her breathing changes.
"Do you trust me?" she looks me in the eyes, and a hint of déjà vu hits me. I don't hesitate when I answer her.
"I do," I say, my voice calm and steady. My eyes don't drift away from hers.
"No." She smiles as my eyebrows rise. "I'm not going to fuck you," she sighs. "But you can do that thing to me—again," she smiles.
"So, I'm the one on top?" I grin. I can't stop grinning.
"And I'm the one on the bottom," she laughs, as I flip her over on the bed. I wrap my arms around her once I'm on top — hovering over her — my lips lying across the skin below her ear. Her hands roam my back, and I grin even bigger.
"I'm going to make you feel so good," I tease, as she fists the back of my t-shirt with her hands.
"Mmhmm," she mumbles, as she starts tugging on the back of my t-shirt. I let her pull it off me. She lets me pull her tank top off her — and then we're naked again. My hands touch every inch of her skin to the point where I memorize the exact texture of her — of all of her.
I get lost. I don't just fall for her: I get lost.
This is an endless feeling. There is no bottom. Amelia is it for me, and I didn't know what it was until this moment. Not until now, as I look her in the eyes, and I'm surrounded by her warmth. She is my nirvana, and I'm not letting her go. I'm not leaving her.
Not ever.
I hope I make her feel what I'm feeling. The kind of feel where there is no bottom. The kind of feeling that is endless.
AMELIA:
"Your drawing is a lot better than mine."
I smile at Parrish's naked butt as he draws stick figures on my ceiling. I'm lying on top of the covers naked, and it somehow feels right. I feel totally okay — I'm not self-conscious at all. I want Parrish to see me.
"Yeah, it's us," he says, as he turns his head. He drops my eyeliner on the floor as he kneels on the bed. I study the figures on the ceiling as he lies next to me — invading my side of the bed. I welcome his body as I curl against him like figure me is — on my ceiling.
"It's like we're looking into a mirror," he says, as he presses his lips to my temple. Heat rushes through my cheeks as I bury my face in the crook of his neck. My mouth hurts from smiling so much — and maybe kissing him so much. His voice is deep and raspy — I like it when his voice is like that. In general, I just feel... happy?
I'm feeling something, and it is definitely something that I like. Something that I do not want to go away.
"I would stay the night if I brought clothes," he speaks, and I look at him.
"I can give you some of my brother's clothes to wear." I beg him with my eyes to stay. I don't want him to leave, even though we're going to see each other at work tomorrow. I need him to stay here—
And now I'm getting ahead of myself. But I can't help it; I just had sex with him. How could he leave?
"I couldn't leave even if I tried," he sighs. "But I feel bad for breaking a promise," he whispers.
"And why is that?" I sigh along with him. I'm not trying to be needy — I'm just coming off that way.
And of course, I know why Parrish feels bad about breaking a promise, who wouldn't?
"I was supposed to be somewhere today," he smiles weakly. "I wanted to be here with you more. I was worried about you. I needed to make sure you were okay."
He's being so honest, and I'm taking complete advantage of it. He has a life, and I shouldn't get in the way of it.
"So, I didn't go," he continues. "But I need to tell my roommate sorry for not showing up," he says.
"I can just spend the night at your place tonight," I blurt out.
I am determined to be his personal nuisance. I am horrible.
He suddenly smiles as he pulls me on top of him. I lean into his chest as I relax myself. My hands reach his shoulders as the heat of his mouth mists over my ear.
"Okay, I guess I can sneak you into my suitcase," he grins.
We have sex for the third time today, because he has a boner which didn't take much to produce, a whole line of condoms, which I decided to ignore — and we're naked. We also can't seem to resist one another or find a reason to resist. I concluded that I like sex. I like it a lot.
***
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