To live in love and die
Twenty One
MIKE’S POV
As we lay under the night sky, the stars our own personal lanterns hanging above us and illuminating our bare skin in a silvery white light, I take in every detail of the girl lying in my arms.
Her back is pressed against my chest, underneath a thick, warm blanket that wraps around our intertwined bodies—our own personal cocoon. Her hair smells like roses, and the warmth her closeness emanates into my system is simply amazing.
I close my eyes and hug her tighter against me. What is happening to me? I’m Mike Fuentes. I’ve never been much of the romantic, but this girl—she had something. Was it her uniqueness? Her spontaneity? Her selflessness? Her honesty? Her vulnerability? I don’t really know. I just know that I’m profoundly and helplessly in love with her.
I groan and bury my face in the back of her neck, digging my nose into her soft, dark hair. “What are you doing to me woman?” I say.
Her body vibrates against me; her laugh is low and sweet. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve got me going crazy Samantha.”
She turns her head as much as she can, and hooks her gaze with mine. She furrows her eyebrows, and says, “You were already crazy before you met me.”
I chuckle and she smiles her big bright grin, the kind of one that illuminates her whole face, making her dark brown eyes twinkle.
My hand is resting against her bare stomach, and I realize how comfortable this feels. Us, lying underneath the sky, surrounded by pillows and blankets, alone. Her skin is so soft, and I start tracing light circles over her lower tummy. She sighs at my caress, and I can almost sense her closing her eyes. She does that, I notice, when she likes something.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her, my lips against her ear.
“I’m pretty sore.” She answers, as if it were nothing.
I let out a silent laugh, looking up at the stars and marveling at my girl. “Although I’m quite proud of that,” I say, and then lower my voice to a more serious tone, “I meant how are you feeling sentimentally?”
Sam turns around in my arms, so our chests are pressed against each other. My hands remain linked behind her back, and as she speaks I feel her breath brushing against my lips, nose and cheeks. “You think I regret this?”
Did I? I mean, it sure seemed like she was enjoying herself a couple of moments ago, but still this was a pretty big deal. I may not know much about relationships, since the only thing I knew a lot about was sex. But this was different, because we made love. I don’t think I’d ever done that, because this was sure as hell the best I’ve ever felt; even more than when I’m playing on stage. And that’s saying a lot.
So, did she regret this? I don’t know how I’d feel if she did. “I don’t know, you tell me.”
“Mike, listen to me very carefully you thick-headed man.” She flashes me a sweet smile, and brings up a hand to my face. “I wanted this. I asked for this. And guess what? I feel great. I’m happy we did this, and I’m happy it was you. Really Michael, I am.”
Her words bring peace to my mind, and I press a soft kiss against her perfect lips.
We lie in silence for what seems like forever, just enjoying the nearness of each other. I breathe in her smell, I trace her body gently with my fingertips; from down her thighs, up her hips and sides, around her full, beautiful breast, her chest and shoulders, and down her arm, until I lace my fingers with hers.
Now it’s her turn—her hands come to rest flat out on my chest, making my skin go warmer at her touch. “Mike?” she asks softly, her voice revealing a little uncertainty.
“Yes?”
“Was I good?”
I’m taken aback by her question. Was she good? She was flawless, more than that. I guess it turns out I wasn’t the only one who had his first time today, because tonight I didn’t have sex—I made love to the most beautiful girl in the world.
“You were absolutely perfect.” I say while kissing her forehead gently. “I’m pretty sure this was my best time ever.”
Her eyes grow wide, and as does her smile. “You’re kidding.”
I shake my head. “I’m not.”
She giggles softly and presses a kiss against my chest, bringing her bare legs up and curling them between us both. My hand is lazily drawing circles up and down the sides of her breast, and I feel her skin break into goose bumps. I love when that happens.
“So now we both know my first time was pretty fucking amazing,” she says, her eyes gaining a mischievous glint, “Now it’s your turn to tell me about your first time.”
I groan audibly. Dammit, I take back the I love you thing. This girl is pure evil.
“Do I have to?” I ask, hopefully.
She rolls her eyes at me, and pinches my skin a little bit to annoy me. “Uh, yeah.”
I sigh, and roll over on my back, my face up in the sky. This was going to be embarrassing.
“I was a sophomore—I think.” I start, closing my eyes. “There was this girl I had a pretty big crush on. Her name was Phillippa Waters and she was absolutely gorgeous.”
Sam is propped up on her elbow, her cheek resting on the palm of her hand so she’s looking down at me. I open my eyes as I feel her gaze on my, but she’s not laughing. She’s silent and waiting for more of my story. So I continue, “There was this one time at a party, where she got really really drunk. I never really thought I’d have a shot with her because she was this popular queen and I was kind of a loser,” I take a few seconds to silently chuckle to myself. “But then later on the party, she came up to me, pulled me into a closet and started making out with me.”
“I was pretty drunk too, so I didn’t even bother to question her. We made out forever, and things started heating up. So I took off her shirt, and then she took off mine and it just sort of happened. The next day, I found out that it had been a dare she lost, and she denied my existence forever more.” I say the last word with finality, indicating my story was over.
My girl was looking at me, her expression pretty unreadable. “In a fucking closet?”
“In a closet.”
“Well, that’s disturbing.”
“I’m a disturbing person.”
“I’ve noticed.”
I smile at her, and she smiles back. She leans on top of me and kisses me gently, her body pressed over mine—and oh, did it feel good. I reflexively responded to her touch and kissed her back, my hands running up and down her back, all the way from her neck to her bottom.
Her palms rest on my chest, tracing lazy circles around my tattooed areas. She knows that drives me crazy.
I bite on her lower lip, and she moans softly. She doesn’t hold back on those anymore. She was shy at first, but now it’s as if the insecurity is gone. I’m happy about that.
My body tingles as her throat emanates that sweet sound of pleasure she does that I enjoy so much. I place a hand over her butt, and squeeze gently.
She smiles against our kiss. “You naughty bastard. It hasn’t even been half an hour.”
What could I say? Once I got a taste of the full Samantha, I couldn’t really get enough. The softness of her skin, the strength of her legs, her perfectly round bottom, her beautifully full breasts, her adorably dimpled lower back—her everything.
“Well, can you blame me? I’m really digging your whole latina body.” I say, to which she rolls her eyes at me and mumbles something that resembles the word ass.
After my chuckle dies down, she rests her cheek on my chest, pressed tightly against me. The blanket is still covering us both, wrapped around each other, and I’m amused to realize that her toes barely reach my knees. Damn, she was tiny—and damn, I loved it.
“Are you cold?” I ask.
“No.” She whispers.
“Are you tired?”
“A little, are you?”
“A little.”
“What time is it?”
I reach my arm around our bodies, searching through the various cushions and pillows for one of our cellphones. I eventually find one, and pull it over my face, illuminating us both.
Sam groans and shies away from the light, and I quickly check the time before locking it again and leaving it where it was.
“It’s 5:49”. I say.
“What? We got here at one or two!” Sam exclaims, her eyes growing wide.
“Well, I guess we did have a blast didn’t we?”
Needless to say, I earned a smack on the forehead. Also needless to say, I found this pretty amusing. Sam didn’t.
After a couple of minutes of silence, enjoying each other’s presence, she speaks up. “It’s almost morning. We should rest.” My girl whispers softly, her voice dripping drowsiness.
“Yes, we should.”
She shifts positions and lays once more with her back against my chest, and I curl my skinny arms around her figure, cradling her perfectly against me.
“I love you Mike.”
And oh, did I love her too.
As we lay under the night sky, the stars our own personal lanterns hanging above us and illuminating our bare skin in a silvery white light, I take in every detail of the girl lying in my arms.
Her back is pressed against my chest, underneath a thick, warm blanket that wraps around our intertwined bodies—our own personal cocoon. Her hair smells like roses, and the warmth her closeness emanates into my system is simply amazing.
I close my eyes and hug her tighter against me. What is happening to me? I’m Mike Fuentes. I’ve never been much of the romantic, but this girl—she had something. Was it her uniqueness? Her spontaneity? Her selflessness? Her honesty? Her vulnerability? I don’t really know. I just know that I’m profoundly and helplessly in love with her.
I groan and bury my face in the back of her neck, digging my nose into her soft, dark hair. “What are you doing to me woman?” I say.
Her body vibrates against me; her laugh is low and sweet. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve got me going crazy Samantha.”
She turns her head as much as she can, and hooks her gaze with mine. She furrows her eyebrows, and says, “You were already crazy before you met me.”
I chuckle and she smiles her big bright grin, the kind of one that illuminates her whole face, making her dark brown eyes twinkle.
My hand is resting against her bare stomach, and I realize how comfortable this feels. Us, lying underneath the sky, surrounded by pillows and blankets, alone. Her skin is so soft, and I start tracing light circles over her lower tummy. She sighs at my caress, and I can almost sense her closing her eyes. She does that, I notice, when she likes something.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her, my lips against her ear.
“I’m pretty sore.” She answers, as if it were nothing.
I let out a silent laugh, looking up at the stars and marveling at my girl. “Although I’m quite proud of that,” I say, and then lower my voice to a more serious tone, “I meant how are you feeling sentimentally?”
Sam turns around in my arms, so our chests are pressed against each other. My hands remain linked behind her back, and as she speaks I feel her breath brushing against my lips, nose and cheeks. “You think I regret this?”
Did I? I mean, it sure seemed like she was enjoying herself a couple of moments ago, but still this was a pretty big deal. I may not know much about relationships, since the only thing I knew a lot about was sex. But this was different, because we made love. I don’t think I’d ever done that, because this was sure as hell the best I’ve ever felt; even more than when I’m playing on stage. And that’s saying a lot.
So, did she regret this? I don’t know how I’d feel if she did. “I don’t know, you tell me.”
“Mike, listen to me very carefully you thick-headed man.” She flashes me a sweet smile, and brings up a hand to my face. “I wanted this. I asked for this. And guess what? I feel great. I’m happy we did this, and I’m happy it was you. Really Michael, I am.”
Her words bring peace to my mind, and I press a soft kiss against her perfect lips.
We lie in silence for what seems like forever, just enjoying the nearness of each other. I breathe in her smell, I trace her body gently with my fingertips; from down her thighs, up her hips and sides, around her full, beautiful breast, her chest and shoulders, and down her arm, until I lace my fingers with hers.
Now it’s her turn—her hands come to rest flat out on my chest, making my skin go warmer at her touch. “Mike?” she asks softly, her voice revealing a little uncertainty.
“Yes?”
“Was I good?”
I’m taken aback by her question. Was she good? She was flawless, more than that. I guess it turns out I wasn’t the only one who had his first time today, because tonight I didn’t have sex—I made love to the most beautiful girl in the world.
“You were absolutely perfect.” I say while kissing her forehead gently. “I’m pretty sure this was my best time ever.”
Her eyes grow wide, and as does her smile. “You’re kidding.”
I shake my head. “I’m not.”
She giggles softly and presses a kiss against my chest, bringing her bare legs up and curling them between us both. My hand is lazily drawing circles up and down the sides of her breast, and I feel her skin break into goose bumps. I love when that happens.
“So now we both know my first time was pretty fucking amazing,” she says, her eyes gaining a mischievous glint, “Now it’s your turn to tell me about your first time.”
I groan audibly. Dammit, I take back the I love you thing. This girl is pure evil.
“Do I have to?” I ask, hopefully.
She rolls her eyes at me, and pinches my skin a little bit to annoy me. “Uh, yeah.”
I sigh, and roll over on my back, my face up in the sky. This was going to be embarrassing.
“I was a sophomore—I think.” I start, closing my eyes. “There was this girl I had a pretty big crush on. Her name was Phillippa Waters and she was absolutely gorgeous.”
Sam is propped up on her elbow, her cheek resting on the palm of her hand so she’s looking down at me. I open my eyes as I feel her gaze on my, but she’s not laughing. She’s silent and waiting for more of my story. So I continue, “There was this one time at a party, where she got really really drunk. I never really thought I’d have a shot with her because she was this popular queen and I was kind of a loser,” I take a few seconds to silently chuckle to myself. “But then later on the party, she came up to me, pulled me into a closet and started making out with me.”
“I was pretty drunk too, so I didn’t even bother to question her. We made out forever, and things started heating up. So I took off her shirt, and then she took off mine and it just sort of happened. The next day, I found out that it had been a dare she lost, and she denied my existence forever more.” I say the last word with finality, indicating my story was over.
My girl was looking at me, her expression pretty unreadable. “In a fucking closet?”
“In a closet.”
“Well, that’s disturbing.”
“I’m a disturbing person.”
“I’ve noticed.”
I smile at her, and she smiles back. She leans on top of me and kisses me gently, her body pressed over mine—and oh, did it feel good. I reflexively responded to her touch and kissed her back, my hands running up and down her back, all the way from her neck to her bottom.
Her palms rest on my chest, tracing lazy circles around my tattooed areas. She knows that drives me crazy.
I bite on her lower lip, and she moans softly. She doesn’t hold back on those anymore. She was shy at first, but now it’s as if the insecurity is gone. I’m happy about that.
My body tingles as her throat emanates that sweet sound of pleasure she does that I enjoy so much. I place a hand over her butt, and squeeze gently.
She smiles against our kiss. “You naughty bastard. It hasn’t even been half an hour.”
What could I say? Once I got a taste of the full Samantha, I couldn’t really get enough. The softness of her skin, the strength of her legs, her perfectly round bottom, her beautifully full breasts, her adorably dimpled lower back—her everything.
“Well, can you blame me? I’m really digging your whole latina body.” I say, to which she rolls her eyes at me and mumbles something that resembles the word ass.
After my chuckle dies down, she rests her cheek on my chest, pressed tightly against me. The blanket is still covering us both, wrapped around each other, and I’m amused to realize that her toes barely reach my knees. Damn, she was tiny—and damn, I loved it.
“Are you cold?” I ask.
“No.” She whispers.
“Are you tired?”
“A little, are you?”
“A little.”
“What time is it?”
I reach my arm around our bodies, searching through the various cushions and pillows for one of our cellphones. I eventually find one, and pull it over my face, illuminating us both.
Sam groans and shies away from the light, and I quickly check the time before locking it again and leaving it where it was.
“It’s 5:49”. I say.
“What? We got here at one or two!” Sam exclaims, her eyes growing wide.
“Well, I guess we did have a blast didn’t we?”
Needless to say, I earned a smack on the forehead. Also needless to say, I found this pretty amusing. Sam didn’t.
After a couple of minutes of silence, enjoying each other’s presence, she speaks up. “It’s almost morning. We should rest.” My girl whispers softly, her voice dripping drowsiness.
“Yes, we should.”
She shifts positions and lays once more with her back against my chest, and I curl my skinny arms around her figure, cradling her perfectly against me.
“I love you Mike.”
And oh, did I love her too.
Notes
I know I know its like really really really short but I've got tons of homework and I don't know how long it'll be until I can update again, so I'll just leave you all here with this really cheesy chapter. I love you all, thank you for the endless support!Don't forget to give me your feedback! I'd appreciate it more than you know.
Check out my PTV artwork on my instagram @alebandam or on my tumblr page! artdelirium.tumblr.com (I follow back here)
LOVE YOU
Updateeee
4/9/14