Tonight (I’m Fuckin’ You)

[24th April 2014]

Ove’s room is dark when I come into the tiny hallway. The room proper is also dark… and quiet; the lights on the ceiling are off, but it looks like his reading lamp is on. I immediately feel myself hesitating and suddenly I feel kind of insecure about the whole thing— I don’t really know how to take it from there. Just a few minutes ago, in the common room, I imagined what it was gonna be like: in my head it was so simple— I come in and Ove meets me at the door and locks it then proceeds to push me against his wardrobes with his body thoroughly in heat kissing me vigorously. He would press against me, and I’d press back wantonly. Somehow we’d end up in bed and … Well, that’s not what happened.

I don’t really know what to do now, the darkness and him not being in my immediate sight throw me off my game. Sometimes I marvel at my stupid imagination though, was I really expecting him to wait by the door for more than a half hour? Maybe he took a nap (it’s what I would do)… but am I supposed to wake him? I just stand there for a moment, like a lemon.

“GG…?” he calls out after a while, cautiously.

“Yeah,” I reply, awkwardly, forcing myself into the room proper. “Um, hi! I just didn’t really know…”

He is stretched out on his bed, eyes closed. The reading light highlights his tousled blond hair, and his face looks at ease. I can see a patch of his toned belly peek through the rim of his T-shirt. And boy does he look hot! Just looking at him is a turn on, at this point. As I leer at him like a creepy stalker, I think of myself: I’m just an average girl. I’m not nearly as hot by comparison… and I just can’t believe my audacity. Why would he want me? Am I making a fool of myself? I’m not tall or athletic like Sofia or blond and Scandinavianly cute like Elin. I am a short, pasty girl with southern European undertones… so not his type at all. But I guess I’m willing to have sex, and that seems to count for a lot in a guy’s mind.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

Ove opens his eyes and lazily raises himself up with his elbows. “What? No. I was just thinking…”

This is so awkward. I don’t really know what to say… since my courage buggered off somewhere unknown. I almost wish that I’d’ve found him asleep so I could call the whole thing off. What the fuck am I supposed to say now? “Hey, I’m here, wanna fuck?” I bite my lip, just in case that particular thought tries to escape. I’m sure that if I were to say that, Ove’s answer would be a blank “no” with the addition that he’d never do it with a potty mouth like me.

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“Are you ok?” He asks, probably because I am just standing there, at the foot of his bed staring at him, half petrified.

“Huh? Yeah, no. I don’t know…” I manage, trying to move. I don’t know what to do, and without a purpose my body just refuses to cooperate on following through with any kind of movement. In the end I sigh and go into nervous honesty mode: “This is just really, really awkward… not sure what I’m supposed to do now.”

“Me neither,” he says in Swedish, sitting up. “I thought you weren’t coming, and now you’re here and I… sit down, will you!” He pats the right side of his bed. O-kay… He is occupying the whole edge of the bed that isn’t facing the wall, and is patting at a patch of bed in between him and said wall. Feeling a little more relaxed, I obey his request, moving like a robot Eddie Murphy, from that movie where aliens control is movements. I crawl from the foot of the bed and sit cross-legged, back against the wall adjacent to him. He turns to face me, a thin carefree smile on his lips which makes my heart come alive like I was just given CPR. Damn he is handsome, with his boyish good looks. Suddenly it doesn’t feel like I am invading a stranger’s room anymore.

“Ove, you look so hot right now,” I say uncontrollably. My whole body is throbbing, following the rhythm at my nether-yaya. “I’m trying to figure out how to be empowered and shit, but I can’t seem to find the nerve.”

He eyes me up and down and then in a swift gesture, he takes off his T-shirt and lays himself down closer to me, closing his eyes. He licks his lips and says in his deadpan way: “You should touch my chest, I have a six-pack that you’re interested in.”

My initial reaction is to feel a tingle of embarrassment in my ears, he’s making fun of me for THAT day! But I decide to touch him anyway, since he’s asking. His chest is smooth, and hard and absolutely delicious to touch. Although the most interesting part is the strip of hair that grows under this navel down to his crotch. Ove is very non-hairy… he has a hard time growing a beard and doesn’t have any chest hair, which is odd to me but not in any way bad. Here I am, groping his chest, and for every inch I touch I further turned on! But soon, it isn’t enough I need more, so I go ahead and suggestively run my fingers along the rim of his jeans.

I get immediate results: he grabs my hands, interlacing our fingers and guides me over him. Once I’m resting against his chest, he lets go, kisses me and squeezes my ass hard. Fuck! I’m a waterfall of slippery wetness, luckily the evidence hasn’t leaked through my pants yet. All I want right now is him inside me. I help his hand along by pressing myself on to him, kiss him harder, bite his lip and push myself up to intake some air.

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His sexy man smell invades my olfactory nerves. I swear, even if Ove were ugly and whatnot, as long as he smells like that, I’d totally want to fuck him. Gazing down at him, I see a reflection of my desire in boyishly expectant expression. It is cute, and cute turns me on so I ravish his mouth again. Kiss his baby smooth chin, Adam’s apple and the valley where his throat ends and his chest begins. I bite his neck flicking my tongue there, and hear him moan feeling his hands cup my ass harder, one his fingers almost touching my quim area. After that last ass squeeze, his hands spreads my thighs apart so that I’m straddling him. As he does this my soaking wet crotch area makes contact with his jeans, somehow grazing my clit, which is already swollen and throbbing. It sends a jolt of pleasure through my body.

I have to stop everything and suck in a breath… suddenly I’m feeling afflicted and impatient, making out is not enough anymore. I want his cock. But the same time, I know that it’s too early, some unspoken law dictates that I have to spend more time foreplaying with Ove. Regardless, I try to nudge him in the right direction by slowly and rhythmically grinding on him, while making sure not to pleasure myself in the meanwhile. It’s a difficult task, but worth it when I hear him moan into my mouth.

Pleasure and irritation mingle inside me. On the one hand his moaning and grunting are driving me wild with desire. On the other hand, I’m more than ready to ride him, and I just want this make out session to be over! But, to my chagrin, it continues for what seems to be an eternity… it’s like a sexual chicken race! So I come up with a little game while I wait for him to give in: I focus on extracting as many pleasure sounds as I can from him. Licking his ear, key bone, nipples, and navel. Pulling at his hair roughly. Grinding on his now a very prevalent hard on… Stuff like that.

I discover that I really love his verbal responses to my teasing. I swear, each sound he makes sends my neurons into an electric tizzy. This is something new to me, seeing as X was always very quiet during sex. I don’t recall him ever moaning. I honestly thought that guys never made sounds before I’d had conversations with the girls about it. And the consensus among Nemi and Summer at least was that they preferred a quiet guy over a so called grunter, which they think is kinda gross and unsexy, so I’d always counted myself as lucky! But, maybe I’m just a dirty girl, ‘cause I find that Ove’s sounds arouse me to death.

Anyway, Ove is totally determined to never stop kissing me. Kissing. It really doesn’t do much for me. Why do men have to go on and on, smearing saliva outside my lips? Is it wrong for a girl to want the cock immediately without all this fuzz? When I take a peek at his radio clock and see that we’d been at this nonsense for almost an hour, I decide that enough is enough. By now we are lying sideways facing each other. My leg hooked to his hips. I stop kissing and look at him. I want to see his face when I finally have his dick in my hand. Lustfully I grab a hold of his jeans button and zipper and undo it, as I see him close this eyes and gulp out a long sigh of preparation. I stroke his member through his moss green Swedish military issue boxer-briefs a couple of times, and am about to whip the thing out when he stops me.

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“GG, we can’t go any further than this…” he says quietly, with great effort.

“What?” The. Fuck! Does he not know how aroused I am? We CAN’T stop now! I obviously stare at him accusingly.

“I’m serious. We can’t do this. You can’t full on cheat on your boyfriend.”

And what a buzzkill that is.

“Why not? What the fuck is full on cheating anyway?” I’m clearly annoyed and am not having it. “The way I see it we crossed the full on cheating line before dinner. As it stands now, all you have to do is stick it in and I’ll come! What difference does it make now if we go further?”

“I think it makes a difference.” He states that in English now, firmly.

“Well, it doesn’t. And he’s already cheated on me! Why can’t I?” I say sulking, frustrated, because his firm tone only reignites my febrile state of arousal.

“I wouldn’t want this to be done to me, so I don’t want to do that to you and your boyfriend. Maybe I didn’t say no early enough, but we have to stop now, GG. It’s not right. It doesn’t matter if he cheated on you, you have the high ground.”

I do not. Have. “The high ground.” And if I did, I don’t want it. I want sex with Ove. I want to feel the guilty pleasure of cheating. And the sense of revenge. And the feeling of being a slutty little girl. The worst feeling though, is what I’m feeling now: being a rejected slutty little girl. I watch him zip up his pants, unhappily. I’m not sad, but just so angry that tears start to gather in my eyes. To think that I was so close… What the fuck is wrong with him? So it’s okay for his girlfriend to dry hump a guy to the point of coming, but what he doesn’t want done onto him is for her to finally get the cock? What kind of logic is that??? It’s confusing and infuriating! I refuse to talk because I know I’ll start crying if I do. I stare at him unblinkingly, trying to make the tears dry out.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I want you too, you know. This is not easy for me, either.” He hugs me.

We hug for a long time… or should I say he hugs me, because I’m in full sulk mode due to sexual frustration. I can’t believe I endured the whole “foreplay” session for it to come to naught! Ok, so maybe endured is not the right word here, but you get my drift— I’m unreasonably frustrated.

Eventually Ove whispers: “We should go to sleep.” I nod slowly in agreement, coming to terms with my failed coup. As I make an attempt to untangle myself from him, his grasp tightens, not letting me have my dignified exit. As he holds me back he says quietly: “I have an extra toothbrush. You can stay here if you want, my bed is big enough.”

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I don’t know whether to be angry or to rejoice. Because the last thing I want to do is to leave his room, his gorgeous body, and his amazing smell. But a huge part of my brain is wondering that the fuck is wrong with him. I know that he generally is an irrational guy with shit for brains and shallow moral reasoning when it comes to debating stuff like politics, but how does he figure that this will work out? Is he taking pity on me?

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I say exasperated. But I really don’t want to leave him. And I mean sleeping together in the same bed is better than nothing right? Pathetic, I know!

So a quarter of an hour later, we’re both in his bed. Him in nothing but his underwear, and me in one of his T-shirts (which smells gorgeous by the way, so I figure that the pajama alone is worth the stay!). We kiss goodnight and he spoons me for a while until we sort of mutually decide to sleep as far apart as we possibly can. I’m facing the wall, and in the dark there isn’t much to do than to listen to his breathing and expend all my energies keeping my hands to myself. I know I’m not going to fall sleep tonight, so figure that if I can just manage to lay still until he falls asleep, I’ll be able to sneak off to my own room. At least this way I’ll be able to give myself a bit of release to my pent up arousal so to speak. Jesus, what the fuck am I doing hooking up with his guy?

But the minutes and hours tick away and there’s no sign of Ove dosing off. His breathing is still off, and he keeps changing sleeping positions every once and again… and when he does, he does it in such a careful way that he gives himself away. My body is literally hurting from forcing myself to lay still for so long that my patience breaks:

“For fuck’s sake Ove, I know you’re still awake. This is a bad idea, I can’t pretend sleep anymore. Neither of us is fine with this, so either we give into whatever this is or we make sure to eliminate the temptation.”

“You’re right…”

I turn around and feel around for his face, planning on kissing him one last time before I go back to my place. He finds my waist first though, and pulls himself close to me, sandwiching me against the wall.

“Stay. You’re right.” He kisses my neck and moves his hand to my ass, pressing it towards him as he too presses himself onto me. I feel his cock twitch and the latent desire that rested under my skin the past couple of hours flares up. I’m so turned on, that I can hardly breathe, so I moan into his kiss.

“You’re right. I want you.”

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I grab his hair and pull it, hardening the kiss. Then try to get on top to straddle him, but he’s not having that. Instead, he just draws me away from the wall and sort of tucks me under him. His hands moving under the t-shirt to fondle my boobs. I reach into his underwear and grab his ass, dig into it with my nails and press it down, so I feel him harden some more against me. It hurts my pelvic bone but I’m just too aroused to stop. I start to grind against him. He groans and pinches my nipple, making me give out a shout. He then grabs a hold of the T-shirt and urgently tries to pull it off me. So I lift my arms up to let him take it off, and feel his sweaty body land coolly against mine again. I lick his shoulders to taste his delicious smell. It’s salty and he moans.

By now I’m so, so, so, incredibly aroused. I just can’t do it anymore. My hands go back to his underwear, while he licks and massages my breasts. I try to pull it down, but he just presses himself against me.

“Not so fast,” he speaks into my breasts, “I’m not done yet, I need to…” He bites my nipple lightly.

“Please!” I whimper. And feel his one thigh move between my legs and push up against my privates.

“You’re really wet.” He says with some surprise. His left hand starts to trail down my belly, and into my panties, “I haven’t even touched you there yet.”

“Don’t,” I breathe, trying to wriggle out of this wonderful torture, “I might come…”

“Isn’t this the point?”

“But I’m not a multiple orgasm kind of girl. I want to come when you’re inside me. Stop playing around, Ove, get a condom and do me properly. Because if I have an orgasm before we do it, I’m not going to help you get yours.”

He makes an acknowledging sound and slowly rolls off me to face the nightstand on his left. As he rummages for the condoms, I caress his back which is damp with sweat and felt him shiver. Inside the duvet, I feel him take his underwear off and put on the condom. I just lie there, my heart pumping with anticipation, ready for him. When he’s done, he rolls back onto me, I see the sparkle in his eyes through the darkness of the early morning. Both of his hands cradle my head as he positions himself between my legs, and I have to moan out loud at the pleasure of feeling his cock graze my clit. I’m already so close to coming that if he does it again, I might just! So I take his cock in hand and guide it to my opening.

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Not until then does it cross my mind that I haven’t done this in a very long time. And as that thought strikes my head I feel myself involuntary tightening inside. He kisses me when he feels me twitch a little, and slowly but firmly presses himself in, moaning into my mouth. It hurts a little but I love it. I love his cock inside of me, filling me up. It feels slutty, but in a good way and I respond by grinding to give a rhythm to his at first controlled and deep thrusts. I don’t think I’ve ever moaned and whimpered so much before. Every second is deliciously torturous. I’m always on the brink of coming and all of my senses were engaged… I can hear him and smell him and see how the muscles on his shoulders move. And, I can feel him thrusting inside me! Until he does something… changes the tempo of his thrusting in a way that make me dizzy with lust. What he does somehow manages to graze my clit. So I dig my palms into his ass and cross my legs around him to try to get him to do it again, and again until I start cumming. Hard. For a very long time. All I feel are these amazing electric currents of pleasure and their tingly after effects, for so long that I’m not even aware of when he orgasms. When the feeling starts to ebb out, I just notice that Ove is lying on top of me with all of his weight, inactive and out of breath and that it is getting difficult to breathe.

He probably feels my eyelashes move against his neck when I open my eyes again. I feel his muscles try to move and just fail. Then his hand digs into my hair and he looks down at me, so our foreheads touch.

“You’re so beautiful.”

I think that it is a funny thing to say in the dark when we can’t actually see each other, but somehow him saying it makes me feel so good inside. Like an emotional orgasm to complement the physical one. I kiss him, inhaling deeply, smelling his sexed up scent in the air. It smells so good.

 And with that I totally fall asleep, because that’s the last thing I remember before his radio clock tries but fails to wake us up at 8.

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