The Kiss-1988
By scrapps
- 1311 reads
The Kiss-1988
“What the hell are we doing here?” he says lighting his cigarette, and then mine. Again, I am at the café. It is a Saturday night, and some local band is playing covers. It’s a humid night. Beads of sweat trickle down the back of my neck, and in between my breasts. I feel randy so I let my fingers rest lightly on Mark’s. He eyes me and reaches over and softly brushes back my hair from my face. I want to kiss him right there. I want to lean in and just kiss him.
Beth is across the room chatting with some co-worker, her arms gesticulating in front of her.
“We are losers,” I say to him, “pathetic losers that can’t get into a real bar.” I move away from him not trusting myself. I’m feeling a bit lightheaded.
“Yeah, but at least we can get a buzz going at this place.”
“That’s true, dulls the pain for me anyway.”
“You got pain, Gwen?”
“Yup, a whole lot of it.” I smirk trying to be funny, trying to regain some control.
“Me too.”
“What’s your pain, Mark?” I ask flicking my cigarette ashes onto the floor and looking at him more closely to see if I recognize any of the turmoil I feel in his face. “What sort of pain you got going on?”
“In my loins,” Marks says in a fake British accent. “Me, got pain in my heart.”
“Oh, please, you got troubles.”
“In my head, my lady, in my head, for my lady,” again he says this with a fake British accent. His green eyes catch the light off the cheap scented candle that flickers between us, I move in to light my second cigarette from its wick, looking up at him as I do. I know he feels the tension again between us, I know he wants to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss him. He brushes at my arm; I feel my nipples grow hard. I want him to touch me. I lean in closer. He does too.
“So why’d you break –up with your girl friend?” I ask as I take a deep drag from my cig and watch him lean in and whisper.
“Hmm, my lady is interested.”
“Please stop with the accent.” I whisper back blowing smoke in his face
‘Alright, I’ll tell you,” Mark says coughing a bit dramatically, as he begins speaking in his normal voice. “I just got bored.”
“You mean the sex?”
“Are you interested?”
“Maybe”.
“Well then,” he says quickly glancing over at Beth who is walking toward us. “Yes, it got to be so routine,” he whispers taking hold of my arm and pulling it toward him so he could light his cigarette off of mine. I whisper, “I want to fucking, kiss you.”
“I know,” he smiles dropping my arm abruptly.
“Hey, what are you guys whispering about?” Beth asks as she takes a seat next to Mark, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. I look away feeling as if I am going to be sick. My whole body is twitching.
Beth is like a humming bird, after a brief stop with us she gets up again and makes another round of the café talking to all of her Green-Peace pals, flittering from one table to the next; taking a little from each before moving on, but always making her way back to our table.
Mark and I continue to shoot the shit about bands that we have both seen over at the Metro. He boasts that he saw Iggy Pop. I tell him he reminds me of Iggy Pop. He laughs, but wonders if I am making fun of him. “Of course,” I say, but in a good way.” Neither one of us mention wanting to kiss each other again, instead I play with my drink. taking slow sips, and then quick drags from my cigarette. I eye-ball Beth as she nears our table, again and suggests we go to a party over on Kenmore where some local reggae band is playing.
I hate parties and don’t feel comfortable with the idea of a bunch of stoned rastas jammed in a small apartment swaying and bumming up against me. I much prefer getting stoned alone and listening to The Cure or something a little more subdued, so I say no. And then she turns to Mark, and he looks over at me, and giving Beth one of his best James Dean smiles says-“Beth, I’m tired, you go, and I am just going to have Gwen drive me home.”
“I am?”
“Please.” He begs, getting on one knee, and talking my hand.
“Get-up, you idiot.”
Beth gives Mark a hurt look which reminds me of a sad puppy that has just been scolded. I hold my breath hoping Mark is not going to fall for her pathetic attempt of feeling rejected. I want to kick her and tell her to fuck off, but I have to keep my cool, I have to keep pretending that I am the good friend that cares about her feelings.
“Will you drive Mark home?” Beth says, defeat in her voice
‘So, I’m the baby sitter now.” I say trying to fake disappointment, but I feel my face blush from my lustful thoughts.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” Mark whispers.
I glanced over at Beth wondering if she heard his remark.
“Well the night is still young,” I say taking a sip of my Long Island Ice tea. “He will have to wait until I sober –up.”
“Mark, are you sure?” Beth whines as she departs, giving him a quick smile.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he says looking away from her.
I watch as she walks off with her new friends, her prairie skirt brushing the sides of her bare legs, her pony tail flopping on her back. Last summer, I would have followed her out. Last summer, I would have never thought of staying behind with her boy-friend.
“I like you my fair Gwen,” Marks says again with the fake British accent, all coy as soon as Beth is out of sight.
I glare at him.
‘Sorry, I’ll stop with the accent thing.”
“But, I do, I really dig you.”
“Really, I hadn’t noticed.”
“Yes, you have.”
I don’t respond. I take another drag from my cigarette and let him keep on talking. There is no doubt that I find him attractive with his long blonde hair and outlaw attitude.
He slips his hand under the table and starts to stroke my thigh resting his hand ever so softly between my legs. I move closer into his hand taking a sip from my drink holding on to an ice cube between my teeth, rolling it to the side of my mouth.
“What do you want to do about it?”
He leans in to kiss me. We are in a corner at the back of the Café. It is dark, so no one can really see us, especially any of Beth’s hippie’s friends. It is a soft kiss, just like his touch, he flicks his tongue inside my mouth and I know that I am in trouble when he sucks the ice cube out from my mouth, and a surge of energy runs up my thigh.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the day I first saw you at the café,” he says as he leans back and chews on the ice cube.
‘What suck an ice –cube out of my mouth?”
He grins and says “yeah something like that.”
‘I know,” I say getting up from the table a bit dizzy at first, but stable. I walk through the restaurant, heads turn, but not in a good way, as I make my way out to my car.
He follows.
I reach over and unlock the passenger’s door. He slides in. I let him kiss me. I let him slip his fingers inside my shirt. I take a hard pull at his lips, sucking at his lower lip flicking my tongue inside of his mouth. I feel him begin to unbutton the top button of my jeans. My head is buzzing. My whole body is twitching. I know I am already wet from his touch.
“Man, Gwen, I could fuck you right here,” he says pulling away and leaning his head against the back of the passengers seat. I roll down my window letting in the humid night air. I feel it, too. The tension between us is like an itch I can’t really get to. I slide over to him. He grabs at me pulling at my hair as I ease myself onto his lap. I feel his hands at the front of my jeans and then the pull of the zipper. In quick movements he slides his left hand down my pants resting his middle finger at my opening. He breathes in my ear leaning into me, biting at my neck, “You are so wet, he says as he moves to kiss me again, harder this time as if he is fucking my mouth with his tongue as he slides his finger roughly inside me. I clap down on his mouth as he slides another finger in me.
He breathes against my lips letting a soft moan escape, “I need to fuck you, Gwen, let me fuck you.”
I rock closer to him. I could do it right here in my car. I could fuck him; I think feeling his hands slide up my shirt and taking both my nipples between his fingertips. He smiles before he squeezes them, softly at first, and then harder. “You like that,” he moans. I move closer to his touch. “Harder,” I command moving my pelvis closer to his very erect cock.
“Not here.” He says pushing away from me.
Shocked by his sudden sobering, I quickly sip up my pants and pull down my shirt. He senses my rejection. He moves toward me, kissing my neck and licking at the back of my ear. I turn and kiss him forcefully on the mouth parting his lips with my tongue. He groans against me-“You are going to make me come in my pants, if you don’t take me home.”
I suck harder at his mouth cupping the front of his pants with my hand. I rub it gently feeling his hard on.
“No, Gwen,” he says grabbing at my hands.
I smirk at him
“It’s not funny. Don’t fucking tease me,” he says taking out a cigarette and placing it in his mouth. He hands shakes a bit as he lights it. He offers it to me. I take a long drag. “Oh like you haven’t been teasing me for the past three weeks,” I say slowly letting out the cigarette smoke through my pursued lips.
“That’s different,” he says nipping at my neck and giving it a suck. “I was courting you,” he says taking the cigarette from me.
“Is that what that was called,” I sarcastically say as I pull onto Sheridan Ave.
***
Mark informs me as he is unlocking his front door that his parents are holidaying in Europe for the summer, and his brother is out of town. “So,” he says with a wicked smirk, “we have the whole house to ourselves. Mark lives on the North-Shore, a posh suburb of Chicago. Mark appears out of place, like a bum, who has stumbled into a fine-dinning restaurant in his torn up jeans and loose fitting shirt. He leads me though his house switching on lights. The place is lined with oriental rugs and antique furniture. I begin to feel a little out of place. I am a north-side girl, who’s only reason in the past was to venture across to the north-shore was to pick up Beth. She was the poor girl living among the rich in Wilmette. .
I feel as if I am in John Huge movie. Mark hands me a glass of whisky and kisses me on the neck.
“Come on let’s go down to my bedroom,” he says taking my hand.
I don’t move.
“Come on,” he whispers, “I don’t bite” he says tugging at my arm.
“Yeah, you do,” I say fingering at my already bruised lips.
We walk down the carpeted basement stairs Mark still holding my hand.
In the middle of his bedroom is a king size bed. Mark sees my surprised expression.
“Hand me down from the parents,” he remarks flipping off his Keds and climbing over his bed. He grabs a box from under it and starts to roll a joint. I take a huge swig from my drink nearly choking on it. The liquid burns the back of my throat.
“Sip it slow, Gwen,” he says lighting a joint and taking a long pull on it.
Leaning against a red velvet chair, I take in his room. There is a stereo next to his bed and albums along side the walls. In the far corner there is a walk-in bathroom. Clothes are scattered all over the floor. The walls are covered in posters of punk bands, and of course there is one of Iggy Pop right over his bed. I feel him looking at me. He is sizing me up. I turn to face him. I settle myself in the velvet chair and cross my legs dangling the glass in front of me. His bedroom is like a cave with its dark walls and small windows up near the ceiling.
“You are so far away, Gwen,” Marks says hitting on his joint again.
I say nothing. I take another sip of my whiskey. It grabs at the back of my throat, but I don’t choke this time.
“Come sit by me,” Mark suggests moving across the bed.
I can feel my own wetness. I want to go to him but I stop myself. Guilt clicks in my head, and yet I really want is to feel his body on mine. Mark starts to take his cloths off. I watch from the chair admiring his lean body.
“Gwen,” he says standing in front of me. His cock inches from my lips. I touch it with my finger tips, and then I begin to rub it. He leans in to my hand. I play with it taking another swig of my whiskey, and then I bring his cock to my lips sucking him in as I swallow the whiskey. He moans as I lick him up and down sucking on his head and then letting go. He pulls at my hair lifting me off the chair and bringing me over to his bed. I place the whiskey glass on the floor.
I taste him and the whiskey as I kiss him hard. His long blonde hair falls upon my face it smells of his musky scent and a hint of pot. . I grab at his back pushing him more on top of me. I feel his cock pressed on my belly. He pulls off my tee-shirt and bra all at the same time. He licks and sucks at my nipples and I close my eyes tight as I feel him move down my body with his tongue drawing circles on my stomach causing me to grab at his hair. I come as he unzips my pants and roughly pulls them down to my ankles. He stops his exploration when he feels me shudder against him. He smiles. “I am going to suck you dry Gwen.” I move my now naked body against him. He parts my legs and I feel his tongue lapping up my wetness. He runs it up and down my core. I can’t help myself but to move my hips closer to his face. I begin to grind against him. Never have I felt so exposed before but I come for him again as he finger fucks me. I muffle a scream as he begins his assault on me again. His flicks at me with his tongue sucking at me, and again I feel the wave of pleasure intermixed with a tinge of guilt as I come over and over on the tip of Mark’s tongue. But, I reassure myself that I have not betrayed Beth with this simple act, it is only a kiss, only a kiss.
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