Senses

You walk through the sliding door, heading through the kitchen to the refrigerator.

Looking into it, you frown dejectedly at the full shelves, nothing appealing to you.

“What are you looking for?” someone suddenly asks.

You shriek in surprise, holding your hand over your heart as you spin around and nearly fall back.

Glaring across the kitchen island, you watch the boy in front of you clapping his hands as he throws his head back and laughs.

“I w-wasn’t even trying to s-scare you,” he howls, trying to laugh and speak at the same time.

“I hate you,” you say, taking a water bottle from the top shelf and shutting the refrigerator.

He laughs some more as you roll your eyes and sit at the dining table, putting your feet up and admiring your scuffed Converse.

You’re almost tempted to chuck the bottle at him, but find yourself laughing when he starts coughing uncontrollably.

“Ha, serves you right, you coldhearted boy.”

He rolls his eyes after gaining his breath back.

“What are…” he stops to cough a few more times, “… what are you up to?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, kissing your teeth. “Summer is so boring,” you groan, running your hand through your hair.

“We’ve only been out of school for, like, three days,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, but eating ice cream, going to the mall, and internet-cruising gets so old so fast.”

“You’ve managed to do that in just three days?”

“What?” you ask, repeatedly closing and opening the bottle.

“Bore yourself?”

“Yes,” you reply slowly, staring at him. “Why?”

“Nothing. I just thought you lived a more exciting life than that,” he shrugs, walking towards the sink with the bowl of he had been eating out of.

“First of all, share!” you yell, sprinting and nearly crashing into him. “Second of all,” you swat him, “I do have an exciting life. It’s just…”

You trail off, trying to think of a legitimate response.

“I just…” Your words fail you as you suck on the pineapple you’re holding, the juice dripping down your fingers.

“You’re just lame,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Fine,” you say, feigning a smile. “Whatever you say. I forgive you since you’ve fed me.”

“That’s disgusting.” His nose scrunches as he looks at you, making you try and follow the direction of his eyes.

“What is?”

He takes a hold of your wrist and points with his other hand at the dripping mess almost at your elbow.

“That.”

“Oh,” you smile innocently. “I didn’t—ew!”

Your face is a look of complete horror as you feel his tongue at the tip of your finger and you realize he’s trying to take the last bit of pineapple in your hand.

“That was utterly mortifying,” you whimper while he runs the water over your hands, scrubbing your arm with the pad of his fingers.

“You eat like a pig.”

Your mouth opens in incredulity, trying to wrap your head around the fact that he just called you the equivalent of a pig.

“You’re mean,” you say, pulling your arm away when he tries to dry it.

Snatching the paper towel from him, you clean yourself off.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his body shaking in quiet laughter.

Smirking to yourself as you grab the extendable faucet from his family’s sink, you aim it at him and clear your throat.

Turning to face you, his smile falls once your plan becomes evident to him.

“This is for calling me a pig.”

“I didn’t—” His protests are too late as you grin and turn the water on, spraying him completely with the shower setting.

“Not fair!” he screeches. “I have no ammo!”

“Or manners!” you yell, trying to be heard over the sound of the water hitting his body.

After just a few more seconds, you shut the water off and nearly slip on the drenched floor.

Laughter completely takes over you as you watch the expression on his face.

“That was an epic win,” you say, congratulating yourself with a small applause.

“Right,” he says, taking off his shirt and throwing it towards the backyard sliding door. “Mom’s gonna kill me, by the way.”

“Your mom’s chill; she won’t mind. Besides, I’ll tell her we dropped the water jug or s-something,” you stutter, laughter still erupting from you.

“Or I can just tell her we got into a water fight,” he chuckles.

You shrug and turn away, picking at your fingernails.

Not seeing him shift, you take in a harsh breath at the feeling of ice-cold water running down your back.

“Holy sh—what the hell?!”

You turn to face him and see the smirk on his face, noting the cup in his hand that once contained the water he just poured on you.

“Unfair.”

“Sure, and you were?”

“Hey, you called me a pig.”

He scoffs, taking another pineapple chunk out of the bowl and shoving it in his mouth.

You take off your shirt without giving it a second thought and toss it over your shoulder to meet with his shirt next to the door.

“Strawberry!” you squeal, reaching to the bottom of the bowl and putting the small piece of fruit into your mouth. “Oh my God, yum.”

Closing your eyes at the sweet taste, you do a little dance of happiness.

You never notice the pair of eyes burning into your body.

You don’t notice the steps that have been taken towards you.

You don’t notice the closeness of the boy’s face to yours.

You only notice when you feel a pair of hands on your hips.

It takes you a while to realize what’s happening, until a pair of lips meets yours.

Opening your eyes at the soft contact, you gasp into the kiss.

You’re unable to move as you try to sort through the different messages running around your brain.

He suddenly pulls away, his hands still on your hips.

“I’m… sorry?” he says, his eyes trailing away from you.

“Sorry that you stopped it,” you breathe, realizing for the first time that you had been holding your breath.

“No,” he chuckles. “I guess I just…”

His eyes scan the room and take mere moments to lock onto yours.

“You just what?” you ask quietly.

“N-Nothing,” he says, his volume matching yours.

The sun is coming in through the window behind him, making his wet skin sparkle just enough to make you squint.

His hair is naturally curly, just the way you like it, and the wetness makes it cling to his forehead.

Without thinking, you brush your fingers over his face and kiss the tip of his chin.

You see his eyes flutter open and closed, making you smirk.

Kissing up slowly, your lips finally touch his and you kiss him deeper than he kissed you.

Running your hands up the length of his arms, you wrap your own arms around his neck and pull him closer.

His bare chest pushes against the cups of your bra, making you moan.

Your tongue glides its way between his lips and you can taste the pineapple mixing with the strawberry.

The kiss is just like a taste of summer and you find yourself smiling into the kiss.

He lifts you slightly off of the ground and wraps your legs around his waist.

Walking slowly towards the stairs to his room, you’re amazed that he hasn’t slipped.

Once he reaches the stairs, though, he stumbles a few steps up, making you pull away.

“You don’t slip on the water-soaked hardwood floor, but on the carpeted stairs, you nearly drop me?” you laugh.

He laughs at you, looking first at your eyes then at your shining lips.

Biting the bottom one, he pulls it into his mouth and sucks gently.

Emitting a moan from your throat, you tighten your arms around his neck and continue kissing him, probing your tongue around his mouth.

He finally gets to his room, groaning into your mouth when he remembers it’s closed.

Pushing you roughly against the door, he holds you up by wedging you between the cold door and his own body.

The zipper of his jeans is cold and the denim is pressing into your own shorts.

Your thighs press into his belt loops, the water soaking through the denim and you can feel the dampness becoming warm.

“I hate this door,” he says into the kiss, still struggling with the door knob.

“It’s okay,” you reply. “I’m in no hurr—ee!”

You squeal once the door swings open, him almost dropping you onto the floor.

Walking quickly, he drops you onto the bed and quickly crawls over you.

His hands run up your goose bumped sides and his lips attack your chest, moving up until he’s at your lips.

“P-Parents?” you say, worrying about who may possibly walk in.

“Out,” he replies quickly and you feel his hands on your belt. “No one will be home until seven or something.”

“G-Good,” you say, clenching his hair in your hand as he starts to suck on your neck.

He pulls your shorts down to your ankles and you kick them off eagerly.

You can’t believe how comfortable this is.

You’re more than just friends, but less than an exclusive relationship; not to the point where this is awkward.

He understands you like no one else does, and vice versa.

There’s really no label for your relationship with him.

Your skin is now dry, but still cold, and you feel his coarse hands firmly gripping your side.

Your legs are bent, your knees pressing into his waist.

His curly hair is brushing against your forehead as he kisses the tip of your nose, then leaves a soft peck at your lips, kissing your chin, then slowly down your chest.

His cologne is buried in his hair and you breathe in, taking in the sweet scent.

You’ve always loved how he wore his cologne. It was never overwhelming; just enough to make every part of you melt.

Lowering his body to yours, you let out a breathy moan when you feel his stomach brush against yours.

His pants zipper brushes against your belly button, making you twitch.

“Your pants…” you breathe, almost laughing when you realize what you just said.

“What?” he asks, lifting his lips from your collarbone and looking at you.

“They’re hurting my skin.”

“You want them off?” he smirks.

“Um, yes,” you reply, your voice staggered.

His lips attack your neck, his tongue teasing your ear lobe.

“Then take them off for me,” he whispers, making your hair stand on end.

Eagerly pushing him up on his palms, you take both of your hands and undo his belt.

Hastily unbuttoning his pants, you push them off of his legs.

After much resistance due to their wetness, you finally get them to his ankles before he kicks them off and onto the floor.

“You’re really cold,” you say, wrapping your legs tightly around his lower half.

Your groin rubs harshly against his hardness through his boxers, making him groan loudly.

You see the darkness appear in his eyes, making your stomach churn in want.

Your cheeks burn red as he sets his hand on your neck and runs down the length of your torso.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

His voice is sincere and his words make you bite your lip; no one had ever called you that before.

Its synonyms—pretty, hot, gorgeous, etc—were words that held superficial meaning.

But seeing the truth in his eyes and feeling his breath on your nose let you know that he’s genuine; you realize how safe you feel and how wanted and complete you are with him.

You smile, lifting your head and kissing his lips softly before whispering, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

His smile grows larger as he busies his lips with yours.

His tongue eagerly begs entrance into your mouth and you part your lips allowing it access.

Too engaged in the kiss to notice him moving, he unbuttons your shorts quickly and uses one hand to push them down.

Lifting your hips at an angle to help him, you moan when you feel him sucking on your tongue.

Your shorts aren’t nearly as heavy as his, but take longer than expected to remove.

You push his shoulder and make him roll onto his back, immediately straddling him.

Putting your weight on your palms and knees, you instruct him to push your shorts the remainder of the way and he obeys.

Pushing your shorts and underwear down at the same time, you blush when you realize that your lower half is completely bare.

His fingers gingerly trace the uncovered skin of your rear, making shivers run up your spine.

“T-That tickles,” you say, dropping your forehead against his.

Lifting his head to meet your skin, he dips his tongue into one of your bra cups and sucks on the tender skin.

Bringing your head up, you bite your lip and let out a small moan.

Taking his hand in your own, you lift it up to your chest and feel the pad of his fingers on your skin.

He dips his hand into your bra cup, his fingers brushing over the tip of your breast, making you flinch and moan repeatedly.

He watches your face intently, the sun shining through the thin curtains of his room and tracing the lines of your face.

You’re overcome with wetness, your body pulsating and waiting for him.

You moan his name through your gritted teeth, shifting uncomfortably as he flicks his finger over and over your tender breast.

“What? What do you want?”

You shake your head and see the confused expression on his face.

“I-I need you… right now.”

“How?”

“I—mm—I want to feel you.”

Moving your arm awkwardly, you press your palm against the bulge in front of his boxers.

“Ahh,” he groans, his body lifting as your palm moves side to side. “D-Don’t.”

“Please,” you beg. “I need this.”

Lifting his hips, he pushes down his boxers and leaves them at the foot of the bed.

Rolling so he’s on top of you again, he takes your legs and wraps them around himself loosely.

“Are you sure y—”

“Yes!” you say eagerly. “I-I mean, yes.”

He smiles with a bitten lip, kissing you deeply.

Occupying your tongue with his own, he takes hold of your hips and slowly enters you.

“Oh, God,” you gasp, pulling away from the kiss and shifting a little.

His body remains still as he grits his teeth, emitting a small hissing sound.

After a few seconds of him staying absolutely still, you drag your nails down his biceps.

“Move, damnit.”

He does as he’s told, pulling almost all the way out of you and thrusting back in slowly.

“Mmm,” you moan, arching your back.

Thrusting over and over again, he drops one of your legs and shifts it to your side.

“What are you d—oh, my fucking God…” you groan, bucking your hips upwards when you feel him hit a bundle of tight nerves that make you salivate.

“Mm, right there,” you moan, your voice cracking.

Your body is in complete ecstasy as his thrusts take over you, every part of you shaking in absolute bliss.

Opening your eyes after realizing they’ve been shut tight, you watch his facial expression changing from concentration to complete satisfaction.

One minute, his mouth is wide open as his nerves are burning on fire; the next, he’s biting his lip to keep from disturbing the neighbors with a loud moan.

“Faster,” you say, resting your feet on the bed and pushing your knees into his waist.

The sides of his torso brush against your thighs as he obliges your wishes.

“L-Like that?” he asks.

“Mmm, God, yes,” you answer. “Please… m-more.”

He circles his hips, making you moan his name repeatedly.

You feel that tingle in your toes starting and you know your end is coming.

Thrusting your hips up to meet his, you rotate your body in the opposite direction.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, dropping his forehead against yours.

Your sudden movements make his spine curve in blinding pleasure.

“Oh, my God. D-Don’t m-move like that,” he says, his eyes shut tightly.

“Don’t?” you question.

“Wait, n-no… keep doing that—oh, my God. Oh, my fucking God.”

Wanting to take control, you push him up and roll over to be on top.

You feel him throbbing inside of you still and decide to ride him until there’s nothing left in him.

“Oh, my God, take me,” he says. “I’m all… fucking… yours…”

It’s hard for him to breathe as you make waves with your body, rotating your hips against the clockwise motion of his.

Resting your palms against his chest, you scratch as you feel your walls clamping down on him in complete pleasure.

You moan his name loudly, more times than you can possibly count.

Scratching his chest, you look down and see the red lines that are a result of your nails digging into his skin.

Bucking your hips a few more times, you slam down onto him.

He screams out your name, his nails drawing rows of scratches on your sensitive hips.

“Make me come hard,” he demands, his voice rough.

With that, you slam yourself down one last time before feeling him come to his end.

Riding out your still-going climax, you feel as if every nerve in your body is about to explode.

You can’t breathe as you finally climb off of him, laying down next to him.

Almost unable to move, it takes every ounce of what little strength is left in him to drag you up to the pillows and tuck the both of you under the blanket.

You can’t talk, but let your rapidly beating heart do the talking.

“Well,” he finally says, “that’s one way to not be bored during the Summer.”