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Memory

"Wanna come in?" I drunkenly offered.

Deacon studied me in confusion, "Are you sure?"

"Nothing I haven't done before," I answered.

I seized his shirt within my grasp and pulled him through my front door after me, placing my lips firmly on his. He pushed me back my shoulder, breaking our kiss.

"Wait, I don't think you know what you're doing," he hesitated.

"Just shut up and fuck me!" I grunted while pulling him into me with such force that we fell back onto my couch.

He tried resisting but soon gave in to me. I felt his rough, frigid body relax between my splayed legs. I wrapped my legs around him, pressing his hard-on against my sex, rubbing up against him with intent.

"Wait," he pulled back, looking down at me lustfully, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I rasped, "Please, help me feel something again."

Am I drunk, or did I just see an emotional look flash across his expression?

"Where's your room?" he asked.

"Down the hallway behind you to the right," I answered.

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