Tradeoffs by Elizabeth L. Brooks
…kissing her and she tastes good, so good, like strawberries and chocolate and a hint of bitter coffee. Her mouth is pliant under mine, and then not; her tongue teases at my lips, begging for more. I pretend to ignore it for now, stretching the moment, the anticip—
She loves kissing; she’s told me that before. I’m happy to give her that; I like kissing, too. But if I have to be honest, a big chunk of my attention is already on parts lower—the roundness of her breasts against my chest, the way her legs are sliding against mine, the way my c**k feels as it struggles against the clothing confining it. But I don’t give in to them, not yet.
—pation is growing tight and electric, and I relax my jaw and open my mouth to her increasingly insistent demands, tangl
