Skinny Jeans Have No Place On These Thighs
Legally Allowed To Turn Me On?
Marcus wants me to sleep with him. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Just as well really as I don't know any.
But it's so soon. This is only the third time we've ever met. It's not even a date.
I don't think you can count meeting up to do lines off DVD cases in a tumble down flat a date. Especially not when Matthew Kitchen is upstairs vomiting because he took too many pills earlier on.
Marcus seems to be getting more and more into me. I know it sounds boastful but he is! His hand went from my thigh to my inner thigh and now it's roaming around, getting closer -
I nudge his hand away hesitantly just in time. Marcus looks at me and sort of rolls his eyes.
"What's the matter with you?"
"Nothing," I mumble.
"Don't you want to?"
"It's not that!" I half lie.
I sort of do want to. I mean he's so cool. Even if I carry on down the path of who I'm almost definitely going to be and end up a complete loser, at least I can always say I slept with Marcus Blunt. His blond spikey hair, leather jacket, melty touches, deep voice, he is a catch.
But then, I feel like a cannon has gone off in my chest every time my heart beats. He's older. Maybe too much older? He's eighteen, I'm not even sixteen. Does that make him a pedophile? Focus brain. No jokes. Actually, that wasn't really a joke. It wasn't funny!
He's on drugs . . . but then, so am I right now. But if I hadn't met Marcus, I wouldn't be.
But then, maybe I would have just met someone else who got me into them? Perhaps I just have that kind of personality where I can be convinced into things. Then again, if that were true, wouldn't Marcus be able to sweet talk me into having sex with him?
He's not saying anything right now. He's just lighting up a cigarette. You see, he's letting ME decide. He's not pushing me into anything. He's letting me make my own choices.
That's sort of gentleman-ly of him. I mean, I'm here practically alone with him in this house. He could do whatever he wanted. Actually, that's sort of hot. Having no control, him just having his way with me - Oh God, what am I thinking?? What's wrong with me?
"Then what is it?"
I realise I've been mulling things over for over a minute. It actually feels longer than that. Funny, isn't it? That thoughts are all long and thought out but actually they only take a few seconds for your brain to pull them all out, read them and come to some sort of understanding.
I think I've reached my conclusion.
"I'm just not ready yet."
I internally congratulate myself. That was definitely a good answer. No one could think you were frigid for not wanting to do it after only knowing each other for just under a week.
"All right." Marcus lifts my hair up. His warm breath is the back of my neck. Then I gasp as I feel him bite my ear lobe. My own breath shudders out of me, like skis colliding with rocks as they cascade down the mountain side.
Marcus grins.
I know what he's doing. He's trying to change my mind. It's not fair. How am I supposed to be strong and not change my mind when he's turning me on so much? It's not fair.
Am I allowed to ask him to stop? Is that rude? I suppose I could ask him to sit somewhere else.
But, the thing is . . . it feels even better the second time around. I can feel my revolve melting away. I want him to climb on top of me and just hold me down. God, this is bad. This is so bad.
I think I need to leave. Right now. Before I fall any deeper.
But it's so soon. This is only the third time we've ever met. It's not even a date.
I don't think you can count meeting up to do lines off DVD cases in a tumble down flat a date. Especially not when Matthew Kitchen is upstairs vomiting because he took too many pills earlier on.
Marcus seems to be getting more and more into me. I know it sounds boastful but he is! His hand went from my thigh to my inner thigh and now it's roaming around, getting closer -
I nudge his hand away hesitantly just in time. Marcus looks at me and sort of rolls his eyes.
"What's the matter with you?"
"Nothing," I mumble.
"Don't you want to?"
"It's not that!" I half lie.
I sort of do want to. I mean he's so cool. Even if I carry on down the path of who I'm almost definitely going to be and end up a complete loser, at least I can always say I slept with Marcus Blunt. His blond spikey hair, leather jacket, melty touches, deep voice, he is a catch.
But then, I feel like a cannon has gone off in my chest every time my heart beats. He's older. Maybe too much older? He's eighteen, I'm not even sixteen. Does that make him a pedophile? Focus brain. No jokes. Actually, that wasn't really a joke. It wasn't funny!
He's on drugs . . . but then, so am I right now. But if I hadn't met Marcus, I wouldn't be.
But then, maybe I would have just met someone else who got me into them? Perhaps I just have that kind of personality where I can be convinced into things. Then again, if that were true, wouldn't Marcus be able to sweet talk me into having sex with him?
He's not saying anything right now. He's just lighting up a cigarette. You see, he's letting ME decide. He's not pushing me into anything. He's letting me make my own choices.
That's sort of gentleman-ly of him. I mean, I'm here practically alone with him in this house. He could do whatever he wanted. Actually, that's sort of hot. Having no control, him just having his way with me - Oh God, what am I thinking?? What's wrong with me?
"Then what is it?"
I realise I've been mulling things over for over a minute. It actually feels longer than that. Funny, isn't it? That thoughts are all long and thought out but actually they only take a few seconds for your brain to pull them all out, read them and come to some sort of understanding.
I think I've reached my conclusion.
"I'm just not ready yet."
I internally congratulate myself. That was definitely a good answer. No one could think you were frigid for not wanting to do it after only knowing each other for just under a week.
"All right." Marcus lifts my hair up. His warm breath is the back of my neck. Then I gasp as I feel him bite my ear lobe. My own breath shudders out of me, like skis colliding with rocks as they cascade down the mountain side.
Marcus grins.
I know what he's doing. He's trying to change my mind. It's not fair. How am I supposed to be strong and not change my mind when he's turning me on so much? It's not fair.
Am I allowed to ask him to stop? Is that rude? I suppose I could ask him to sit somewhere else.
But, the thing is . . . it feels even better the second time around. I can feel my revolve melting away. I want him to climb on top of me and just hold me down. God, this is bad. This is so bad.
I think I need to leave. Right now. Before I fall any deeper.
♠ ♠ ♠
Thanks for your patience lovely readers!Just want to say a few things.
1) 18 year old guys shouldn't have sex with 15 year old girls.
2) If you're not ready, do NOT have sex.
3) Don't be pressured into anything. Whether it's your first time or the thousandth, you have the right to decide what you do with your own body. Not a guy, not your friends, just you.
THANKS! So what did people think of the chapter then?