Oh! Oh! Oh! Gromit! There’s a bomb in me pants!” ~Wallaceix All the times I’ve imagined Brooke in my bed underneath me, I never thought it would happen like this. She looks up at me, watching me intently and I can’t help it. I shift my pelvis and slide against her. She has to feel how my heart is thundering and know how preciously close I am to losing control. But instead of pushing me away, she shifts her hips and rubs back. Her eyes close and when they open again I’m sure…it’s the look…the look of wanting, needing, that in this very moment she belongs to me. When our lips meet the kiss isn’t soft and tentative, but heated and insistent. Her fingers wind into my hair and pull me closer. There’s moaning, but I’m not sure if those sounds are coming from me or her, or both of us. I don’t care. I just keep kissing her, pressing down, breathing her scent. I’m a desperate man on the brink of salvation.
