It's Classy, Not Classic.

Having her young hips rolling down against mine was something I would forever love because it was something I could never get sick of, something that only sent me going even more insane for her and every little inch of her too. Having her body would not be the same if I didn't have her mind as well, if she didn't hold the personality she did, because it all began in such a twisted way. I was first compelled toward her because of how oddly attractive I found her, and then I'd spoken to her, and her body wasn't what made me fall in love with her. The way her mind worked made me love her, and in turn I fell in love with her body, fell in love with every single tiny part of her, let my heart get set on her and get stuck on and addicted to loving her and her body. I was in love with the fact that I was in love with her, in love with the fact that I loved having sex with her and only her, or even just being with her. I was in love and loving it, loving everything.
Touching would start, and if she'd ever end it I couldn't help but whine, because it was such a tease, and I needed her, needed her so badly. I'd been so sexually frustrated for the past week and I couldn't take it anymore, because that urge to feel her body, to feel another being there with me sexually, it was just getting too out of hand. So, when given the chance, it's almost embarassing to say I went crazy, like some lovesick, sex crazed fool. I couldn't contain myself from getting at her, couldn't hold myself back -- wasn't sure if I even wanted to.
Pathetic at how I swore I could have cried out when I finally met with my release, because it was so good, because it was so good to feel that lusty haze around me once again, making me feel so at home even though I was always so at home with her around. So good but so much better because I'd waited so long, to myself atleast, and been rewarded so well with something I loved with the person I loved. This was, also, the first time I'd ever seen her reach climax more then once in one night before I'd finished -- but that's what I'd wanted, for her to finish before me, because even as she came down from one of her numerous high points, I kept going, because it felt so good, because the love I was receiving felt too good to handle, and as much as part of me wanted to stop to watch her reach her breaking point, fascinated, I couldn't stop, because I needed to make her have the best night so far, needed to continue satisfying myself while doing so. What worried me was that next time we become so intimate, I'd have to top tonights sex -- but, I had a feeling I'd be fine, it's not as if she'd be angry with me.
And now, all I can think about is love as it seems -- besides the other thing that perpetually runs through my mind, which was already obvious, because this was what I'd wanted, to have her all to myself. I'd wanted her all to myself, and now I have her. And I suppose ever since I'd met her, ever since the beginning, this was what I'd always wanted -- to fall so in love with her, and no one else.
When morning came, greeting us with sunlight beaming in through the window and down onto us, my eyes automatically fluttered as I woke up, the candles that had been lit around the room blown out, finding myself tangled with her, sheets wrapped around both of us, pressing us close together as we lay facing eachother, and her face was so close, the tip of her nose almost touching my own, which only made me smile lazily, still half asleep and absolutely out of it, disheveled and groggy.
My hand seemed to be pressed into her waist, her arm draped over my neck limply and my other arm out under her head, her head resting on the inside of my upper arm as a pillow, her eyes closed and a calm expression to her face. Our skin sticking together, flushed and red, and I spotted those various marks I'd left on her neck. The sheets of the bed were damp, my hair still damp along with it. Now I knew there would be no way of me getting out of bed without disrupting her peaceful sleeping form, no way for me to climb out of the bed without waking her up to pull me back in with her -- but that'd be okay, and it was okay, because it gave me an excuse. I wanted to stay here and lay with her in bed anyway.
I stayed like that for a while, laying there soon wide awake, watching her as she slept, wishing time would stop for me in a determination that made me seem hopelessly desperate. I took my hand from pressing against her waist and pulled it out from under the sheets, brushing my thumb over her cheek bone before I'd cupped the side of her face nd began caressing my thumb over that same spot, her cheekbone, sighing and staring at her, because now it seemed I loved her so much it hurt. It was a pain that I'd gladly live with, though, to be with her. To give her my forever would be the one thing I'd try the hardest at for her, or atleast one of the things, because at this point I'd basically do anything for her. I'd been made a slave to love -- life had won the battle against me, and I wasn't too choked up about it either, or at all for that matter.
The room and the bed smelled of sex, and yet her scent still lingered happily on her, that very scent now rubbed off on me. The room still seemed so warm compared to how it used to be, and as I lay awake next to her, my eyes began to get heavy, breaking me down until I let them close, not realizing myself drifting off into sleep.
Once I was ready to finally get to sleep, there was a vibrating noise from somewhere in the bed, something vibrating near my foot, and I made a tired groan and opened my eyes halfway, stopping and gentley pulling myself from Kat, who stirred in her sleep and murmured something incoherent, turning over the opposite way from me and onto her stomach. I sat myself up and rubbed at one of my eyes, searching through the sheets at the end of the bed as the phone still vibrated, and soon, I came across Kats jeans, digging into the pocket to where her phone vibrated, sighing exhaustedly and answering it, rubbing at my other eye, "Hello?" I inquired hoarsely into the phone.
"Hi... Uh, whose this? Is Kat there?" A younger, male voice questioned from the other side at me and I gave a deep exhale, rubbing at the back of my neck.
"Frank, her boyfriend... And she's asleep -- why? Who is this?" I murmured right back at the person into the phone, leaning back on one of my hands.
"Oh, uh. Um, this is Alex, one of her friends." My insides almost instantly flared as I realized who this boy really was, because the person that this very voice belonged to was one of the very boys who had been letting their eyes wander my girlfriends body, and now, as he spoke to me, he still had the nerve to ask me if he could talk to my girlfriend, and at this very point, even if she was awake, I still would have lied and told him she couldn't come to the phone -- because as if it wasnt already obvious, I don't want this fucker laying a hand on my girlfriend.
"Oh, so, you're Alex, huh?" I smirked evilly as an idea popped into my mind, an idea to make this kid jealous, to make it known that she was mine to love, another subtle way to tell him to back off.
"Yeah, uh, could you wake her up?" He asked me timidly, and I could just sense the nervousness in his voice, which only made my smirk darken.
"I'd rather not -- it was a long night." I rejoindered, my smirk fixing permanent when he went absolutely silent as he knew exactly what I meant by my words, and when he didn't say anything for another few seconds, I took it on myself to continue, "Alright, well then, I'll tell her you called, Alex." I hissed rather meanly, but still casually, amused by his reaction, and after saying that, I hung up without another word before he could say anything, hung up with no intention to actually tell Kat that he'd called.