Game on.

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
Read my poem Hold Me, and then maybe it'll seem less confusing.

Submitted: June 26, 2017

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Submitted: June 26, 2017

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I don't know what to say. I'm seriously speachless. Every single part of me is on fire, but I'm still lost for words. Every inch of skin still gives off heat from your last touch, but I'm finding it hard to even form sentences. I didn't think you'd react to my poem the way you did. Sure I thought it would've been sweet, but had I known lips would've been involved in the thank you, I would've given it to you sooner. Maybe that's what it is, a writer will never be fully satisfied with their pieces, I'm sure you're aware of that, and this particular one, hold me, I felt like there was so much more to say. And it was so embarrassing. To watch you unfold that paper slowly. So I didn't. I slipped it into your back pocket, and let your eyebrows frown in confusion. I'd poured my whole heart onto it, and I was afraid you'd freak out. So I left you, and waited. It was stupid, so stupid we laughed about it later. How you threatened to break the door down if I didn't come out straight away. How you just repeatedly banged on the door, in between fits of laughter, as I cringed on the other side. What can I say? You just make me feel so shy. Even if I never saw you read the poem, that didn't stop me from imagining it. Your eyes flitting across the lines, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration. The corner of your mouth lifting upwards ever so slightly. Did I make your heart beat a little faster? Did I make the hairs on your neck stand up straight? Electrified. The fire I spoke of, was it filling you up too? I hope the fuck so hun. I really do. I don't know exactly what you felt, but opening the door and looking into those laughing eyes of yours, I swear I needed a wall to lean on. My knees were threatening to give out. And you did the worst thing possible for my weak heart, but it was the best feeling in the world. Pulling me into you, and bending your neck so my lips could meet yours. So my fingers could entangle themselves in your hair. Fuck, I'm in love with your hair. I'm no expert, but the reactions you gave me, made me feel as if I was ontop of the world. The things you whispered into my ears, had me clenching your shirt. It was the briefest of brushes, your lips against my ear, that made me want to press myself further into you. Was that even possible, how close we were? When you pulled me up, it felt only natural to wrap my legs around you, tightly, because hell if I was going to let go. Did you know that the second you pushed my back to the wall, I'd want to let go of the last piece of my restraint I was holding onto? There was a shift in the mood. It changed within seconds. I could tell because the next time you kissed me, your teeth were tugging my lips, desperate, hard enough to draw blood, and my nails were digging themselves into the back of your neck. I never knew that the first fight we'd have, would've been with our tongues clashing together, each trying to take the lead, to assert dominance. You won, but fuck if I cared. This feeling, this hot pulsing feeling within my core, was nothing but pure lust, fueled as you pressed your hard self into me. Made me feel what you were feeling. Made me feel what I was feeling. Hands moving in sync, carressing, gripping, tugging. The air filled only with the sound of heavy breathing, fast, erratic, and the occasional soft whimper. From me. Because you were doing things babe, things my body could hardly keep up with. Fountains threatening to erupt, and a back that arches without hesitance, so my neck is bare for your lips to touch. So a trail of feathery kisses can be made down, down, and further down. We take another turn. My arms that were once wrapped around your neck, are pulled to each side of my head. Our fingers enterwined, we're back to kissing, to lips swollen, to moving in sync, bodies slowly, tortuously rocking against each other, where each time we meet, our bodies hum in approval, appreciation, and so we're back to moving again. This time faster, more feverishly, as if it's our only chance. Butterflies in the pool of my stomach, hot desire growing by the second. Hands move to my thighs, I swear I nearly passed out. Your fingers are inches away from my sweetest spot. From where I don't want you to hold back, and just let your fingers and tongue glide right through. Enough to make this tingling sensation travel up my spine and make me shiver. Oh L, am I going a little crazy? Because when your hands cover every small curve of me, I ache against you. Hips grinding to try and keep up with our teeth clashing and our breath mingling. Goosebumps left from the traces of your fingertips. If I told you I wanted to take it further, what would you have done? Would your bed have been our next destination? Would I have let out a gasp as you dropped me on my back? Would the floor have been open for our clothes? Clothes you slid off me, but still I was burning? Because bare skin against skin would've been pleasureable on a whole new level babe.The anticipation. Of legs opening, and bodies fitting. Backs arching and lips parting. Sweat glistening. Twisting and rolling. Grinding. Oh shit, I think I should stop now. What is this? What have I just written for you? I haven't the faintest fuck, but if it makes you all hot and bothered, it was worth it. Don't start something you can't finish babe. I still remember. My fingers resting on the waistband of your jeans, eyes looking up to you, whilst you found it hard to regain steady breathing. Challenge accepted hun. Game on. 


© Copyright 2017 Hanah C. All rights reserved.

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