Eyes Closed
He's here with me now: taking up the space between my hips, pressing hot kisses against my neck and jaw, fumbling with my belt as he tries to snake his hand down my pants. I should be focused on the copious amounts of primal desire and lust pulsating within me and the amazing guy eliciting this reaction, but every time I shut my eyes, all I can see, all I can feel is you.
His hand trails up my thigh, leaving a tingling sensation against my exposed skin. My hands lay pinned above my head, just like that time in the backyard when we were tossing the football around. Our fingers interlace. His lips find mine. My breath hitches in my throat as he grinds his body against mine.
'Connor.'
My shirt's off. So is his. Clothes begin to pile up on the floor or his room and the air becomes denser. Our kissing becomes more feverish and hurried as we sit up/ My legs encircle him and I feel his length pressing against me through our underwear. I'd never gone this far with anyone.
Flashes of the path we walked together flashed before my eyes and as our journey unfolded before my mind's eye, Noah's spindly arms became frim biceps, crafted from years of sports. I felt your abs pressing against my stomach. I could envision tanned skin, sandy blond hair, and those ravishing brown eyes. I pictured you in those tight compression shorts you used to wear during practice before you got shot.
"Fuck, Jude."
I open my eyes. Noah is staring at me, eyes wide and full of lust. I was disappointed. I wanted to see you. I told myself that if I keep my eyes closed, he looks just like you. If I keep my eyes closed he feels just like you. The hands spreading my legs are yours, the lips trailing kisses along my neck are yours, the weight bearing down on me is yours, and the pressure between my hips is yours.