How every threesome should be - sloppy, pressed, spontaneous, drunk, and punctuated by a tiny hand reaching from a nipple to a neck.

I was done for even before you finally bent me over and fucked me, wet and soapy in your shower.

Your hand circling my throat, your fingers in my mouth, Warm water running down my face. A sudden trill of your kisses on my shoulder blades like a goddamn flute section.

Is it wrong that I want to go back to that moment and live forever in the storm of your bathroom?

(Source: spliffy-)

She didn’t want to wake you, doesn’t see you right away when you step out of the bedroom. It smells like coffee and artificial pine dish detergent.

You watch her for a minute, wearing those cheap cotton panties in the natural light like a foreign language movie star. 

She hears you, surprised. 

Don’t hesitate. Kiss her. Wind your arms around her and lean her back onto the table, her wet soapy hands soaking spots through the back of your t-shirt.

The summer they turned fifteen, Megan and Melanie discovered the cutaway under the bushes, the small patch of grass behind the pool house.

It started with dares, stumbling and innocent articulations of desire. “Take off your bikini top”, “Make a hickey on my stomach”. 

Soon they were kissing, touching, learning that sexuality was far more playground than battlefield.

The belt. Oh god, the fucking belt.

In my experience, it’s every man’s “no turning back” accessory. As that leather tongue snakes out of the metal hinge I feel my brain turning off, my focus 100% on the physical.

Time stopped for just a second.

In a laughing, PBR-drunk blur, you looked up at your girlfriend Amy, jumping on the cheap crappy couch with her perfect tits and cool bangs, naked in heels playing your guitar, your cat poised midway through a hilariously awkward leap.

This is it, you thought. That life you’d dreamed about but never defined. At this moment, you’re the coolest fucking person on Earth.

Hell yes.

Would I ever like to be starting my week this way.

The small, European apartment with the iron fire escape. The cute outfit, smelling freshly laundered. The tall, soft-haired boy with the beautiful back, his arms behind my tiny legs, pulling me into him. Relaxing into his breath and tongue. 

Sigh. Want.

(Source: unearthlyintruder)