He sucked, the sound of his mouth crackling again in the dark, relative quiet of the upper bleachers. The speakers were miles away, and the music was good, but I was barely aware of the song playing. With Adrian’s hands on my back and his mouth on my breast, I was contained only within his touch, and nothing else in the world mattered.
One song blended into the next, and people continued to roller skate far below us. The announcer called out over the music for everyone to change direction, to counter-clockwise.
Adrian pulled away and said, “Change direction.”
He kissed my lips, his tongue touching mine. I moaned with pleasure against his mouth.
He pulled away and moved back down, his tongue swirling around one nipple, then the other, in what I imagined was counter-clockwise.
I let my legs move apart.
He didn’t make a move, but continued to handle and taste my peaches.
I leaned back and parted my legs enough so I could hook one foot around his back and pull him closer for more contact. He shifted in to kiss my lips again, and I hugged him tightly, pressing my tongue-damp breasts against his dress shirt.
His hands moved to my thighs and stroked up and down my smooth, moisturized, bare legs. Was he going to try for third base? He didn’t seem that eager, which was a shame, because Miss Kitty really wanted a pat. I could feel my pulse throbbing down in my aching pussy, and all these soft, sweet kisses were driving me crazy.
Adrian kissed my earlobe, breathing in deeply with his nose nestled in my hair. “I’m really digging your tits,” he said. “I mean breasts. Sorry.”
I giggled and licked the side of his neck, finishing by catching his earlobe between my teeth. “You can call them tits,” I whispered. “Or peaches, melons, or anything fruit-related.”
He held my melons with both hands. “I want to take them home with me. What do you think? Can I borrow them for a few days?”
“You’re funny.”
He squeezed, supporting them up, then letting them drop, still nestled in his hands.
“You didn’t have these in high school,” he said.
I walked my fingers up his arms and squeezed his upper arms. “And you didn’t have these muscles.”
“We both filled out for the better.”
“Did you really mean what you said at dinner, about prom? Were you really disappointed I went with Jett?”
“I would have never asked you. It wasn’t until Jett asked you in the cafeteria that day, that I even figured out how much I liked you.”
I playfully pushed him away. “Too bad. I would have rocked your world after prom.”
He frowned and dropped his hands down to my knees. “Like you rocked Jett’s world?”
I frowned back instead of answering. Were we really doing this? Getting jealous over past lovers, real and imagined?
My voice flat, I said, “Jett got himself a few inches away from my taco stand, if you know what I mean, but he didn’t sample the taco delights.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Jett lost his couch-cushion virginity that night. But don’t worry. The couch didn’t get pregnant. He used a condom.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or fucking with me.”
“Both. I’m a woman.”
He looked around, seemingly distracted by the sounds of the roller skaters. My nakedness began to feel incongruous. Here we were in musty old bleachers, where people stamp their feet and cheer on the local hockey league.
Fumbling around in the dark, I located my bra and slipped it on quickly, followed by my dress.
Adrian blinked at me. “What did I do?”
“Nothing, I just…” I shrugged. My emotions were confusing, especially the way they were mixed with my body sensations. Adrian and I were on the edge of something, and depending on what happened next, we could either be climbing each other to ecstasy, or picking up our leftover pasta to leave.
I blinked up at Adrian. He could decide what happened next, because I didn’t trust myself anymore.
“Golden,” he said.
I smoothed down my hair and busied myself zipping up my dress while avoiding eye contact.
“We should tell her,” he said.
“You tell her.”
“But she’s your friend.”
“This morning, I swore to her I wasn’t interested in you.”
“Why would you say something like that?”
“Because you made me feel bad. When you left last night. You didn’t want me.”
He was still kneeling on the step below me, his face just slightly lower than mine. He slipped his arms around my back, grasped my buttocks, and pulled me toward him. My legs parted to accommodate his body, and I felt his crotch make contact with mine. Through my dress and through his clothes, I felt something firm and rod-like.