It's Classy, Not Classic.

Walking down the apartment hallway toward Franks apartment door after being dropped off after hanging out with Rae, I sighed, my mind twisting around certain thoughts. See, meeting my fathers new little heart throb, the object of his affection, let's just say it was something I could honestly say I was not looking forward to. Meeting Ella was something scheduled for next Friday night, and in just a short week I'd be meeting this woman, making an introduction I hoped would never arise, an introduction that I'd never wanted to make or receive because it still felt as if my father was replacing my true mother, although I knew the thought was ridiculous to begin with, because it was obvious my father was crazy about my mother, even years after I was born I could tell. They never got sick of eachother, only loved and cared for eachother, and their love was an amazing example of the love that I hoped to have one day, their relationship that used to be was the perfect example of what I hoped would be mine and Franks relationship years from now. Though, our love for eachother made it easy to read eachother, so for the rest of the day I knew Frank himself could tell I was not looking forward to meeting Ella, and as I was upset with that, I was also upset that it seemed to put a slight damper on the confession of love Frank and I had made to eachother this morning.
Stopping infront of the apartment door, I felt through my jean pockets for my spare key that I'd been given, checking my bag as well and sighing, giving up after not finding it through minutes of looking. As happy as I felt to know Frank held a love for me in return, making it mutual, a storm was something that I didn't need tonight -- no matter how much I love them, or rain in general. The power was going on and off, and I had to take the stairs just to make it up here, thanking the lord that Frank didn't live on the top floor. Today was not my day, and yet hope still flared, a hope that was telling me my night was about to get better, even if only for the soul fact that I was about to see Frank.
Softly, I knocked on the apartment door, the lights on the ceiling of the hallway going out and cutting, the power shutting down and a sigh escaping me yet again before the door swung open and through the dark my eyes were met with and greeted by Frank standing there, soaked from what I guessed to be the shower, standing there in nothing but a towel wrapped low around his hips. My gaze trailed over his figure for a moment before I couldn't contain myself from giggling anymore, and I laughed quietly at him, getting an eyeroll in return before he smirked at me knowingly, a sensual feeling radiating from him even if only for the fact he was naked underneath a mere towel, and he grabbed my hand and pulled me in without a word, shutting the door after me.
As tonight obviously held a bad storm, a black out only evidence of that, a black out that took over half of the houses in Jersey, I seemed to refrain from tilting my head in wonder at how candles were lit around the house on various places everywhere. Walking in, dropping my bag near the counter, I giggled again at Frank, crossing my arms casually and tilting my head curiously, "So, tell me why you couldn't get dressed before answering the door." I giggled softly at him and he rolled his eyes yet again, a smirk crossing over his lips directed at me, a dark sensual hint to it.
"Thought I'd give you something to look at instead of restricting myself in clothes." He teased back at me slyly and I laughed under my breath, shaking my head at him slightly, "So, why don't you tell me why you aren't naked yet?" He inquired back, jokingly mocking and copying me, smirking again, and I rolled my eyes, unmoved.
"You can't just expect girls to undress for you, Frankie baby." I teased him and he chuckled softly, moving close infront of me where I stood infront of the counter, leaning himself into me, his hands holding onto the edge of the counter on either side of me, "Just because you're in a towel doesn't mean I'm going to strip on down." I giggled, leaning my back on the counter, and his smirk fixed permanent. I tried not to let myself get distracted by the fact that he was dripping wet, droplets of water running down him, those droplets and the moistness of his skin reflecting the ambient, orange lighting from the candles lighting the room dimly. Trying to make myself forget that there was one small layer of fabric restricting me from him.
"Would you prefer if I took your clothes off for you?" He whispered seductively, snapping me out of it, finally making me realize I was letting myself fall into a daze I was trying to prevent, and I giggled under my breath calmly anyway, trying to play it cool, hoping he couldn't see the pinkened shade of my face.
I poked my index finger into his chest, smirking right back, "You get away from me, you're gonna get me all wet." I told him and his smirk only darkened, and I only scoffed softly a second later because I knew just what his perverted little mind was thinking of. To be honest though, it wasn't like I didn't love it, because everything he does, everything he says and every little thing he thinks up sends me going crazy for him. I was truly head over heels for him, and it didn't have to be kept a secret anymore.
"Don't I get you wet anyway?" He purred sensually at me, that smirk still perpetually plastered to his face. I convulsed quietly and gave him a small push away from me, slipping away from him smoothly and slipping away from his reach, walking away down the hall. "Wheres the flame, baby?" He called after me, "Where's the love?" I shuffled into the bedroom carelessly, disregarding his words but failing to contain a soft chuckle to myself from his ridiculous behaviour -- because it was obvious what he expected, obvious that his hormones were getting the best of him. So obvious he was horny, needy for physical love and attention, and it wasn't that I would say no to it, because that would be the highlight of this, since it'd hopefully take my mind off of everything going on. It had been a while since we'd actually been so close, and I wouldn't refuse him, it was just that I absolutely loved to tease him
Kicking off my converse, I smirked to myself as I heard his footsteps coming down the hallway, and I rested my hands on my hips as he appeared in the doorway, "The loves in the bedroom," I joked back at him sarcastically, "If you need me so direly, then why aren't you undressing me yet?" His lips curled into a dirty smirk, proceeding into the room instantly, shutting the door behind him and quickly approaching me, grabbing onto me and giving me a tug closer before he looped his fingers through the front belt loops of my jeans, pulling me right up against him, not even taking a second of hesitation in leaning down and forcefully pressing his lips down hard onto mine, his lips still holding the form of a smirk.
His fingers retracted from the belt loops, curling around my belt buckle and tugging at it, pulling and picking at it, fumbling to get it undone, his patience running out already, only seconds into it, because the foreplay was only just beginning. Prefering not to sweat so soon, though, I broke my lips away from his and pulled my shirt off before the temperature of the room could rise, letting it fall to the floor, his lips brushing down to the side of my neck, where he kissed at random spots. My hands seemed to automatically reach out, pressing flat against his moist lower abdomen as his hands got my belt undone, his fingers unzipping and unbuttoning my jeans. Right after, my arms wrapped around his neck tightly just as his arms seemed to automatically snake around my waist, the wet skin of his arms pressing against me, and I suppose it was already obvious by now that he'd rub all of that water off on me sooner or later. His shower was useless though, because we'd both be showering after this tomorrow morning anyway.