Did I convince myself it was love so we could fuck, or did we fuck to try and make it love?
I had climbed through a window, a romantic gesture no doubt. She had let me in with a laugh and a comment on my audacity.
Audacity meant desire. Both of us knew it. I had climbed through her window at two in the morning, because I wanted her. I wanted her enough to risk the climb, the night, and the chance of being caught.
I kissed her thoroughly.
The moment our lips touched, her hand was against me, needing to feel if my desire was real. Wanting to know if it was just a show of courage or something else. She gasped when she felt me hard. The desire was not only real it was urgent. It was wild.
It was audacious.
“What do you think we’re going to do?” she asked, pulling off her shirt. I cocked my head to one side, staring at her breasts for the first time in my life. I shrugged as if it didn’t matter. As if both of us didn’t know what I wanted.
I took my shirt off and then my pants. My boxers followed until I stood naked and at full attention in front of her. The attic was hot and the climb left me covered in a sheen of sweat. I stepped closer and felt her skin against mine as our lips touched once more.
I pushed and she pulled as we stumbled onto her bed on the floor. For a moment she knelt, looking up at me with my cock in both hands. She laughed and shook her head before opening her mouth and taking me between her lips. One hand slid into her underwear and I could smell her excitement.
It was only seconds that she sucked me before I had her on her back. I needed more touch, more taste, and more skin. She raised her ass to let me remove what was left of her clothes and she giggled when I opened my mouth on her.
Seconds later the laughter turned to groans as I bit her thigh and fucked her with my tongue. She pulled me up quickly, and held my face in her hands. I kissed her stomach. Her breasts. Her neck.
“Is this going to change everything?” she asked, as both of us watched me slide between her lips.
The physical task was clear: Shake your head, open her legs, whisper a promise, and then thrust inside her. Hold her tightly as you fuck her and don’t stop until she cries your name.
The emotional task was something else.
“Maybe,” I said, penetrating her just barely. “Does it matter?”
“You climbed up to my window,” she whispered. “Besides, we’re leaving for college in a six weeks.”
It was too late for justification, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t try.
“Just fuck me,” she said after I lingered longer than either of us expected.
I kissed her, tenderly this time, as if to say maybe it is love after all. And then I thrust, falling into her as she wrapped her legs around me. She bit my neck, I gripped her wrists, and our sweaty bodies joined into one quivering mess.
I came before she did, but we didn’t stop. I stayed hard inside her and whispered words in her ear as she touched herself. She clenched around me, told me to keep going, and when she eventually let go it was to a promise of love that neither of us believed.
When I climbed out her window it was without promises.
When she kissed me goodbye as I stood on the ladder it was without remorse.