Never Gonna Leave This Bed
Never Gonna Leave this Bed
Damian McGinty lay under the satin, silver sheet shirtless, with his arms finally wrapped around the one and only Avice Donchar.
As the crickets chirped, Damian lay with a bemused expression on his face. In Avice’s girly-flowery-smelling bedroom, he thought about everything that had led him there.
Avice was from Damian’s old, hometown outside of Dublin. She was the socialite- the princess- of that tiny Irish village. She was also classically Irish pretty, unlike Damian who took after his Mum’s Italian roots with his thick, dark hair. Avice’s hair was a perfectly smooth, candy red. Her skin was light and modestly freckled and her green eyes were the perfect blend of enchanting and a mystery. It was always jokingly rumored that she would win “Miss Ireland” without even competing, but pageantry was never Avice’s style.
She was a rebel child who was always one-step ahead of the rest. While she and Damian were just school friends at best, he was always captivated by her. He always thought his baby face and crooked smile were too plain for a girl like Avice, but he finally did manage to catch her attention when his band, Celtic Thunder, took off. When he landed a spot on the hip American program Glee, he had finally become the talk-of-the-town himself.
It was almost required that they would run into each other on one of Damian’s trips home. They reminisced about childhood in Ireland on a candlelit dinner at a modest (albeit, dingy and far-too-local) pub. Before Damian knew it, he and Avice were at her flat screwing.
And after the best sex Damian had ever had, the wonder girl finally slept. Tonight, in Damian’s embrace.
However, it was a rather hot and balmy July night. Sleeping so close together would be impossibly uncomfortable for him. Remembering something he had seen on TV in the States, he thought, “Maybe I could just hug her, roll her over, and end up back on my side by myself...” Considering this for a moment, Damian figured, “Worth a shot, I suppose...”
Cautiously, Damian tightened his grip around Avice’s body, twisted a little to his left, and tried to gently rest Avice on the other side of the bed.
With her eyes still shut, her features relaxed, she gave a coy grin and whispered, “you totally stole that from “Friends.” You’re becoming too American.” And with a little, girlish chuckle, her breathing slowed once more and she drifted back to sleep.
Damian was falling harder than he could even comprehend. He wasn’t used to a girl as sassy and challenging as Avice and he loved it. There was something undoubtedly sexy about a girl so sure of herself.
While he didn’t know where this fling would go, whether Avice’s big, fiery personality would cause them more trouble than excitement, he did know one thing for sure.
He was NEVER gonna leave this bed.
As the crickets chirped, Damian lay with a bemused expression on his face. In Avice’s girly-flowery-smelling bedroom, he thought about everything that had led him there.
Avice was from Damian’s old, hometown outside of Dublin. She was the socialite- the princess- of that tiny Irish village. She was also classically Irish pretty, unlike Damian who took after his Mum’s Italian roots with his thick, dark hair. Avice’s hair was a perfectly smooth, candy red. Her skin was light and modestly freckled and her green eyes were the perfect blend of enchanting and a mystery. It was always jokingly rumored that she would win “Miss Ireland” without even competing, but pageantry was never Avice’s style.
She was a rebel child who was always one-step ahead of the rest. While she and Damian were just school friends at best, he was always captivated by her. He always thought his baby face and crooked smile were too plain for a girl like Avice, but he finally did manage to catch her attention when his band, Celtic Thunder, took off. When he landed a spot on the hip American program Glee, he had finally become the talk-of-the-town himself.
It was almost required that they would run into each other on one of Damian’s trips home. They reminisced about childhood in Ireland on a candlelit dinner at a modest (albeit, dingy and far-too-local) pub. Before Damian knew it, he and Avice were at her flat screwing.
And after the best sex Damian had ever had, the wonder girl finally slept. Tonight, in Damian’s embrace.
However, it was a rather hot and balmy July night. Sleeping so close together would be impossibly uncomfortable for him. Remembering something he had seen on TV in the States, he thought, “Maybe I could just hug her, roll her over, and end up back on my side by myself...” Considering this for a moment, Damian figured, “Worth a shot, I suppose...”
Cautiously, Damian tightened his grip around Avice’s body, twisted a little to his left, and tried to gently rest Avice on the other side of the bed.
With her eyes still shut, her features relaxed, she gave a coy grin and whispered, “you totally stole that from “Friends.” You’re becoming too American.” And with a little, girlish chuckle, her breathing slowed once more and she drifted back to sleep.
Damian was falling harder than he could even comprehend. He wasn’t used to a girl as sassy and challenging as Avice and he loved it. There was something undoubtedly sexy about a girl so sure of herself.
While he didn’t know where this fling would go, whether Avice’s big, fiery personality would cause them more trouble than excitement, he did know one thing for sure.
He was NEVER gonna leave this bed.