“when i try i’m just wastin’ my time”
Her hair falls, just, in front of her eyes when she looks down. The way it looks right there makes me all soft. I love brushing it aside, back behind her ears where it doesn’t really stay – any way to touch her, really.
I can’t keep my hands off her. I play with her hair, put my arm around her, brush her hand, rest mine on her leg, lay my head on her shoulder; i love touching her. She can’t keep her hands off me, like that but also, strays up my skirt, shirt, fingers my waistband. I take her hand, stop it or move it. I give her that “honey! we’re in public you know!” look (it’s totally ingrained, i do it without thinking, i somehow feel so femme when i do). I love it. I love it – it makes me feel so wanted, and oh it teases me. It makes me want to just, if i could override that reaction, let her go as far as she wants.
The bruises from the weekend have faded to yellow trails along the inside of my arm, the top of my breast, my thigh. When i read on the computer i put my elbows on my desk and rest my chin on my hands; it folds me up and reminds me how my chest is sore. And why. It all makes me smile. She says it’s my fault, that she’d never much bitten anyone before. It’s not something i’ve done before either.
She said that she was pretty much a bottom before me. Oh. My. Really? Well. I suppose that would not have surprised me a few months ago; she is so very soft and sweet. But what she does to me…i must say i was a bit taken aback.
I don’t remember when things happen – what and where are clear, but time runs together. I took her hand, stopped her, told her i couldn’t stay quiet, she was going to make me scream like that (implied: your roommate is in the next room probably trying to go to sleep). She smiled, moved my wrist into her other hand, above my head, “so scream.”
Last night we actually did have to be completley quiet. I’ve never done that before. That is, when i’ve had to, i’ve always stopped somewhere in the middle because i just couldn’t do it. Oh. My. God.
She asked if she could stay at my place tonight. She’d better; i have it all to myself. She said, “you haven’t cleaned up yet, have you?” No. (I’d cleaned the living room and such Monday, but forgot about the bedroom. I had to close the door rather quickly when Jake came by. Not that she doesn’t know about everything that was still out from Saturday, but i’d just as well not go there.) “Good, cause…” she pulled my arms out above my head, pinned them to the bed.
She said i’m “dangerous.” That she’d missed me from the two days she’d had to work, that we hadn’t seen each other. Just the sort of thing that would have terrified me. But she said it rather like it was a bad thing, which is reassuring.
And, well, i can’t keep her off of my mind. These are a few of the things that have been running through my head, keeping me from what i ought to be doing. I’d always though that not getting laid would have me thinking about sex all the time (and, y’know, it kind of did), but now… After all, i have specific things to remember and to anticipate.
“I Can’t Get You Off Of My Mind” – Hank Williams