Brittany's room was dark except for that small strip of light that shone through a small slit in her blinds. The orange glow of that streetlight below outlined Brittany's flawless, creamy skin. She was hovering, barely inches away from you and you felt her breath close to your neck as your fingers closed on her shoulders and you brought her even closer. Her cold lips pressed against your searing hot skin and you though that you would die of wanting her. She kissed the top of your shoulders and slowly moved to the crevice of your collarbone. You bit your lip as your head fell backwards and you closed your eyes. She moved to your neck, inching her way up slowly, making sure that every single kiss and grazing of her lips were placed exactly in the right places. Her hands tugged at your hips and explored your waist, all the way up to your ribs, making your breath hitch.
"Jesus Christ, Brittany," you said, covering up a moan.
"What?" she whispered in your ear before dipping her tongue inside it and tugging at your earlobe with her teeth. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked coyly.
You weighed your options. You could keep taking dirty, letting Brittany explore the little bits of your shoulders and neck or you could finally take the reins of the evening. You've been scared and distracted this entire, perfect evening by all of your stupid feelings that you were missing this, all of this: being alone with Brittany at your fingertips, telling you that she wants you right now, in this very moment.
It was almost as if you stepped out of yourself: your thoughts fuzzed and suddenly you and Brittany just, were. You were together, in sync, your hands roaming each other's bodies while your lips had a silent conversation punctuated by nips of her teeth on your neck and the occasional tugging of her bottom lip. Your hands made it to the hem of her dress and, in one fluid motion, pulled it over her head – flinging it behind you. Brittany let out a short giggle of surprise; her eyes wide and her mouth open in an amused smile. She cocked her hip to one side and draped her arms on your shoulders.
"I seem to be undressed," she said in an amused tone, meeting your eyes with those electric blues, and kissing you briefly, but deeply.
"Not quite," you said, between kisses.
Your hands found the clasp of her bra and unhooked it expertly. Brittany stood there – her hands tangled in your hair, your hands on her hips – wearing nothing but her lacy blue thong, (the one that's silky to the touch and skimpy to the glance). Your hands could not stop touching her, almost as if making sure that you had mapped out and kissed every inch of her body, every single one of those freckles. Brittany recaptured your lips, and once she had you upright, tore your shirt off from your body. She took hold of your wrists and, with two hurried steps, pushed you up against the wall. You shivered briefly at the cold of the wall on your newly exposed skin, but you were flushed again almost immediately. Brittany was holding your arms above your head and was pressed hard against you. She kissed your neck and your cheeks and bit at your ears, she knew that you were practically begging for her to kiss you. She waited until you couldn't take it any more and kissed you deeply, making that warm feeling from your lips rush all the way down your body. Her hands found the button of your jeans and tugged it loose, pulling your pants down slowly kissing every bit of you on her way down: your chin, your neck, and your collarbone. She tugged at your bra with her teeth.
You unhooked it yourself, in an act that surprised both you and her.
"Wow," she said, looking at your breasts and lowering her lips to kiss their perfectly rounded shape. Her tongue grazed the tip of your nipple before she took all of it within her mouth, sucking at it gently, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. You cupped the side of her face with your palm and you brought her back up to meet your eyes.
Her eyes were questioning, as if she was worried this was too much, or too fast or just too strange. You answered her doubts with a swift kiss on the lips and a quick switch: you had her pinned against the wall now; you gripped her wrists and slammed them up near her ears. She tried to push forward, to go back to kissing you neck and your nipples, but you pressed her up against the wall again.
"Tell me you want me," you said, inspired by this new position of power you seemed to have assumed.
"No," she said, smiling, trying to nip at your ears and trying to wiggle free from your hands.
"Tell me you want me," you said again, this time letting your tongue flick at her hardened nipples in between each of your words.
She shivered, let out a moan, and her knees buckled underneath her. You were holding her upright by pressing up against her a bit more, but most of her weight was on you and your hands.
"Fuck, I want you so bad," she finally conceded, and you let go of her wrists. She wrapped her arms around your neck and kissed you harder and deeper than she had ever kissed you before. Her tongue and yours played together expertly, you noticed that your hands had found their way to her breasts, and your thumbs were playing with her nipples. Without breaking your kiss, Brittany took your hands away from her breasts and moved them to her waist, then her hips, then all the way behind her so that you were grabbing and squeezing her ass.
She leaned her arms on your shoulders and suddenly you knew exactly what to do: you hitched her ass up higher towards your hips and she wrapped her legs around you. You spun the both of you around, walked towards the bed, and you carefully lowered Brittany onto its edge. You pushed her over, so that she was lying down but her legs still hung over the edge. You loved the sight of her arms above her head, her blonde hair fanned out perfectly, catching the few beams of light. You trailed your tongue from the middle of her breasts, to her belly button, to the edge of her thong. You took the hem of the garment between your teeth and tugged. Brittany let out a drawn out moan as you lowered her thong down her legs. You knew you were moving painfully slowly, and that it was driving her crazy: her hips bucked towards your face and her hands gripped the comforter until her knuckles turned white. She finished the job herself, kicking it off and flinging it across the room before she leaned forward, grabbed you by the side of your face and pulled you on top of her.
"Do it," she said in your ear, dipped her tongue in your mouth and moved your hand downwards, so you could feel how wet she was, how much she wanted you and telling you that you could take that next step.
You lost yourself in the heat of your tangled bodies. Your breath mixed in with hers, your eyes closed tight, but opened briefly when you felt Brittany clench all her muscles and hold her breath. You looked at her face, flush red, eyes closed tight, her mouth slightly parted, but her lips wide in a smile, showing her perfect white teeth. She opened her eyes and met them with yours. She gripped your neck and brought you in close again. She kissed you.
Your thoughts hazed and your skin grew hot while you kissed, bit, and caressed every last inch of her, and her, you. You tore the sheets of the bed; you flung pillows across the room. You moved from the bed, to the carpet, to the desk, to the stairs.
You sat pressed against the house, Brittany in between your legs, and you both gazed forward at the newly forming dawn. Her arms rested on your slightly bent knees, and yours were draped around her neck. Your chin rested on your own shoulder, because the height let you keep whispering in Brittany's ear. You were both wrapped in the bed sheets and wore nothing else. Normally, the two of you scantily clad sitting atop Brittany's roof would have been cause for a scandal, but it seemed that the street belonged only to you this morning, as the deep orange and hazy blue intermingled with the rustling trees. Brittany leaned her head back onto your shoulders, and you held her close.
The only sound you could hear, in between Brittany's soft breathing, was the steps of the mail carrier on the asphalt. Jason, so preoccupied with the day's mail, kept his eyes forward and his pace quick. You briefly wondered if he could see you, and a twinge of panic ran down your spine. You and Brittany quietly decided that because of the angle of his hat's brim, and his speed and low line of sight, that you were safe. You breathed in relief.
Jason smiled to himself, and kept walking.