It Was Only A Kiss

Sarah's POV

I slammed my books down on the table as my 16th Century Art History class finally ended. I'm more of an abstract art person myself but according to my amazing history professor, "Learning the techniques that various geniuses employed centuries ago, is to learn what works and what doesn't, then to copy their inspiring styles to create something completely new".
First of all, how can "copying" someone - no matter how old or dead they are - create something entirely new? Especially if they don't even work in the same subject with their dark oil paintings of Kings, battle scenes and random parts of the Bible, while everyone in my class is doing Graffiti art. That's like trying to use a brownie recipe to make peanut butter.

Anyways, now that school had officially ended, we set off to our apartments to clean up and get ready for our usual Friday night celebrations. Obviously my routine included mi amour, Connor, taking me out to my favorite bar, dance the fucking night away and then do exactly what I said nine words ago. Yeah, that's right. Fucking. I know what I want and I know how to get it, call me horny but around Connor its hard not to be... Adorably ruffled coffee-colored hair that was so tempting to caress and gently brush aside to look into the cheerful depths of the cloudy grey eyes that left me comfortably numb and tingling as he would tenderly wrap his arms around me as he pulled me closer to his firm body, then lean forward slowly lips tou-

Erm, anyways, as I hauled my bags (man, were they heavy) up the steep stairs of our comfortable apartment building, courtesy to the huge "Out of Service" sign hanging in front of the metal doors of the elevator. As I finally reached the 15th floor the door burst open, coughing out my eager boyfriend as he swept me into a bone-crushing hug.

"SARAH!!"

"I missed you too Connor," I rolled my eyes and engulfed him in one of my own hugs. "What didja do today?"

My words fell on deaf ears as he sprinted back into our along the corridor from which I'd just walked through; I shook my head, smiling. This was so typical of him to jump up and run off to do things on impulse, I'd gotten used to it over the years but sometimes I can't help but wonder at what he does in the time that he disappears...
Alright, I'm very prepared to admit that I'm paranoid and to some extent quite clingy but I know I'm not the only girl who wants his love, and I'm certainly not the hottest, funniest or smartest out of them. So you can't entirely blame me for being like what I am.
It almost feel like he's Penelope from the Ancient Greek myths and I'm Ulysses, watching on as my significant other gets hit on by people who know that they're way, way, way outta bounds by trying to get 'comfortable' with my other half. Except I'm a girl unlike Ulysses. But Connor says that he sometimes has his doubts about whether he and Penelope share the same gender. I'm not sure if that's implying that Penelope was a female impersonator or that my boy-friend has a permanent dildo attached to his skin so that he can disguise that fact that he's secretly a girl...

I collapsed on to the bottom bunk of our dorm room's bed and lazily surveyed the room. It was an average dorm room with two neat wooden tables against the plain walls, but we had been lucky enough to get a spectacular view of the hundreds of cement, metal and glass building which clustered around the city, almost completely obstructing the horizon. I think that they were secretly being cheap though since about one side and a half of our square room were almost entirely devoted to the clear sheets of glass that served as a barrier between the safety of the room and the hundred yards or so to the ground. The two large clothes cupboards that we shared were tucked quietly into a corner of the room and didn't have any stray hems sticking out of the drawers, crumpled paper from discarded designs littering the floor or any mess at all thanks to my OCD-ness.

Connor sprinted back into the room holding aloft a rectangular card-board box, or at least he tried to. He kept bumping into the door-frame with the flat container for the next minute or so until I'd finished cracking up at the sight of him literally bouncing off the walls, and grabbed the pizza bo- wait... Pizza? OH MY GOD!! - after that I obviously snatched it off him and threw it open so that I could eat a heavenly piece of cheesy goodness. I ripped the lid open and grabbed a slice of steaming cheese, bread-y stuff, tomato sauce and pineapple then stuffed it in my mouth enthusiastically.

"MPHH MPHH PPHHPHHING HMM!!" that could be translated into 'Oh My Fucking God' for two reasons... 1) It was my favorite type of pizza (girls, if your boy-friend doesn't know what food you love & hate, he's not worth a dime; guys... Learn what your girl's favorite food is if you want to keep her out of the hospital from an allergic reaction or something), 2) I had just stuffed burning hot pizza into my mouth and that should cause quite a bit of pain...

I finished chewing and giving occasional moans from the deliciousness and swallowed it slowly, once I'd finished I licked my lips, making sure I hadn't missed any of its heavenly goodness (is there even such a word...?). I sat down calmly on the side of the table, about an inch away from Connor on one side with the heavenly, steaming hot, sexy, provoca- errr, pizza on my other side. Of course the pizza was nothing compared what dirty thoughts I was having for my boy-friend... The way he was looking so turned on when I was licking my lips from the amazing food, and the look he was wearing turned me on pretty badly as well.

I turned to him and deliberately licked my bottom lip with my lids lazily half-open, looking up from my long eyelashes; his breathing turned up a notch or two almost to the point of panting.

"Sarah....." Oh god. That low chesty growl threw in a whole load of spice to the already hot picture...

Before I knew it, he threw himself onto my lips, moving quickly, urgently. His tongue pushed against my upper lip and I immediately opened my mouth, giving him access. I groaned, my hands reaching up to play with his curly brown hair, while his hand caressed my back, and it was only seconds before they went up my shirt and into my bra. I reached my hands down to his waist and pulled him closer to me, my lips moulding onto his, and I reached up to take off his shirt. I wanted him desperately right now...
Then Connor pulled away and smiled crookedly, pushing my hand away from his shirt. "Not today." he whispered, his breathing uneven and irregular as he removed my hand carefully from his chest. I pouted, crossing my hands over my chest.
Laughing, Connor pulled me closer but managed not to suffocate me in the process - from what I've heard, lots of girls get this problem with really strong guys who sometimes forget that the human body needs oxygen and end up with their girl-friends almost blacking-out on them. Another reason why I loved him is that he's strong but gentle... Unless we're getting down and dirty, in which case he can be very rough, but even then it doesn't hurt badly.

I sighed contently, breathing in his familiar smell - a mixture of that amazing cologne he used, coffee and clean linen.

"I guess we should go to that club that opened last month? My friends keep saying how the scene and music there is great - they allocate different nights for different music genres, and apparently they only get the best musicians from that genre as well - and the drinks are pretty reasonably priced too." I had been wanting to go to this new club with Connor for a while, and now was the perfect time to ask him.

"Please, don't tell me that Rap is on tonight... I really feel like rocking out to some Bring Me The Horizon or even Paramore. If the club's playing anything but Metal, Rock, Punk or Alternative I swear I'll make them run for their moms!" Connor groaned in my ear.
Yes, he uses old slang a lot, but he was raised in a tiny town in the mid-west so he grew up with that kind of language. Thank god that his parents tuned the radio to Rock and Metal rather than that Country crap or else I'd really have to pay for our Love.

"Don't worry sweet-heart," I soothed him, and adopted a baby voice. "Da nice cwub is pwaying wock and pwunk two-nwight."

Connor rolled his eyes playfully, and shoved my arm. "Alright," He grinned. "Lets do this."