Danny’s somehow migrated to the corner. He’s crouching down, just watching. I can’t really get a good read on his face – that might be considered kind of rude when I’m supposed to be getting it on with this girl – but I can imagine it: the slight furrow above his brow when he’s concentrating, the purse of his lips, eyes wide with surprise. What’s going on for him right now, watching me make out with another person, a girl no less? I mean, maybe it doesn’t make a difference whether she’s a girl or a guy, but something tells me it does. There’s a reason that guys watch porn with two females and one male, right? Do they watch it with two guys and one girl as often? I guess there are no real statistics on that, are there?
Back to Tabitha. Back to getting it on. Back to paying attention to
what I’m doing because I’ve never done this before. Never kissed another woman.
Certainly never lay prone with one, hand dangerously close to her hip. Never
felt that slippery mix of connection and confusion leading me into something
small and narrow, a claustrophobic center that cannot hold.
Something surges inside of me and I kiss her hard. Under my mouth I can
feel her thin lips, that quirk of surprise. They’re sturdy and stiff and in a
way I feel that they’re fighting against me. That turns me on. I slide my hands
down her arms to her wrists, hold them against the floor. She makes some sort
of muffled noise. I take that for a good sign.
Then she somehow gets out from under me and maneuvers herself atop my
body, flips the tables. We’re playing out the power exchange, pressing back
against one another, yin-ing and yang-ing. She’s small but fierce and I can
feel her intensity as I begin to run my fingers along her body.
Just as it’s getting good, Danny joins us.
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