We were making out on your couch. You were wearing sweatpants and I had on…fuck, I’m not even sure about that part. I might have been wearing a short skirt or I might have already been naked. After all, being in your arms did tend to have that effect on me.
Your arms were around me, and your kisses (so addictive they taste like the original sin) kept luring me deeper and deeper. I was intoxicated by your every look and touch. Words were barely needed as the flames of desire consumed us both and we moved as one, intuitively knowing just what the other needed.
In that moment nothing else existed save you and me. Nothing else mattered. Time was nonexistent as even nature itself froze to watch the explosion of passion amd flames that engulfed us. I was grinding against you, getting more and more wet, literally dripping down on you. And without even realizing it at first, somehow, I started riding you, and you started fucking me, through your sweatpants.