There's a tree next to your porch, the kind that reaches and bends as if trying to reach for the sun. Its bark is thick and rough as I stand next to it, playing with the layers that peel off and flake between my fingertips. You told me to meet you here in five, but of course you're late. I imagine you spilled your coffee in the flutter of messages that I sent your way. You probably hit every red light despite your dangerous swerving and skidding turns. You've never been a very good driver and with the rush that I'm sure is running through your body, as it is mine, I'm sure you're an even worse one.
When you finally pull into the driveway my hands are shaking. Hell, my legs are shaking. It's the accumulation of adrenaline and too many coffees and anticipation that has me gripping onto the tree to keep from falling. You swing open the car door and your hair is disheveled in the most breathtaking way. You have a coffee stain on your shirt and I smile at how predictable you are sometimes.
You walk toward me and my smile slowly drops and my mouth becomes dry. The look on your face is something I'll never forget. And your eyes, well, your eyes ate me alive in that moment. As you get closer I can hardly breathe, but when you get to me you don't stop. You skim against my side, and grab my hand dragging me into the house behind you. I'm not sure how you unlocked the door that fast because before I can realize it, it's slamming behind me and my back is being pressed against it and you're in front of me pressing. Pressing not with your hands but with your hips because your hands are preoccupied reaching up and around my neck, tangling in my hair, pulling just hard enough that my head tilts back. And then pulling harder.
My eyes shut as your grip tightens and I feel your lips trail along my neck. You're cautious at first, and I know it's because you love the thrill. It's the same reason you love the tops of roller coasters and heights and driving too fast. Fortunately for you, I give you what you want and I whimper out a plea. You take the bait, albeit reluctantly and finally your lips press against my skin. They travel from my collar bone up to the spot behind my ear that tickles, and halfway back down my neck before you introduce your teeth. And god do I love those teeth. They drag against my skin and bite and nip and I'm weak to it all so I grab your hips and hold onto them for balance.
You continue and my grip gets tighter, balling up your shirt in my hands. It's then that you move your thigh between my legs and from that point on my brain decides to begin working. I unfurl my hands and pull your shirt up and off. You complain as it forces you to stop your relentless teasing and I use this to my advantage. With a swiftness I wasn't sure I had, I flipped you so that your back slammed against the door with a thud. I ran my nails up your side and onto your back as you arched. With your head back and your eyes closed and your mouth hanging open I began to get impatient, needy. I grabbed your hand and we ran upstairs and into your room. You connected your lips to mine at the foot of the bed and we kissed feverishly as our hands grabbed and scratched and our hearts raced faster than we could count. Clothing began to accumulate on the floor as shirts and bras and jeans were thrown off haphazardly and ignored.
With a roughness you knew I liked, you pushed me onto the bed and crawled on top. Your thigh pressed in between my legs and I moaned. Softly at first and then louder as your movement turned harder. Rougher. You kissed lower and lower down my chest and the wetness between my thighs grew. You were slow, deliberate, your hands scorching your path with tightly gripping fingers. When I felt you inch back, so that you could continue down my stomach, my hips shot up. Those fingers that had always been so firm turned soft as you grazed them against my thighs, and up at the base of my thighs and then all the sudden they weren't on my thighs at all. And soon after, your mouth followed the fingers that were causing, causing the word "fuck" to bubble in my throat with each thrust, each lick, each shudder.