Moving In

“Welcome to the new place.  I don’t have much moved in yet, but I’ll give you the nickel tour.”

I start roaming through mostly empty rooms as you tell me about your plans for the space.  Parts for the futon frame are scattered across the living room floor.   We step through them and wander toward the back of the house.  The futon mattress is the only thing in the bedroom, spread out to lose the curl from its packing box.  I poke my head through the closet door.

“Nice.  Lots of closet space.”  Instead of answering me you slide your fingers into my hair, pulling my head to the side.  Shivers dance down my spine when your lips find my neck.  Your other hand finds my breast.  I grip the door frame when my knees go weak.  I can’t help leaning into you.

My other hand lands on your hip, roams to the front of your jeans.  I can feel you through the denim, hard and ready.  I turn in your arms and kiss you, only breaking contact to pull your shirt over your head.  Clothes seem to melt away in the heat as we tease each other to the breaking point.

I step back, leading you to the futon.  I drop to my knees and you push me forward onto my hands.   I sigh as you push into me.  Your hands hold my hips as you set a fast pace.  Sighs turn quickly to screams.  I can barely breathe, but manage to utter one word.

“Harder…”

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