Sex + Love

September 12, 2011

What is this Love? Part 4 “My Place or Yours?”

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Written by: Kyle
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what is this love 4

It burns going down. Wafting up my esophagus, the fermented agave evaporates into a gaseous drug that I feel enter my sinuses through the back of my throat. Inside outwards. I release a small belch. He finds it cute and pulls me in for another kiss.

“Ewww!”, he says!

“Well you could have waited!”, I replied with one eye basically sealed shut.

We had been shooting back tequila basically all night, with a grope and a make out in between here and there. I was having a blast, and I could tell he was too. His cock was raging hard all night long. God bless hipster attire; his jeans left nothing to the imagination. #winning

The club was hot as hell. You know east coast summer weather, the humidity stuck to you like cheap lube. But by the time you realized it, you were already soaked. Sweat dripped down his face, resting on the creases of our locked lips, giving us an ever slight taste of saline that cut through the passion.

We both stared at each other. It was time. He took my hand. Let’s get the fuck out of here, he mouthed. My grandma taught me how to read lips. I guess she never imagined this would be one of the moments where it would come in handy.

We made our way through the crowd. Glancing up, I’d see a few friends, make eye contact and ever sightly cast off their glare, keeping my priorities in line. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. I was so turned on. I was so scared. My heart was racing.

The tempeture was a bit cooler outside than it was inside. The door opened to the back alleyway behind the club and a burst of coolish air covered my wet skin. It felt almost as great as his teeth on my neck.

Stumbling a bit, I used the brick wall to stabalize. He turned around to what I thought would be to help me, instead, he pushed my up against the wall. My head hit the brick with a thud. Nothing major, it was kinda hot. He pushed my arms up above my head and devoured my face. Every inch, he took me with his tongue.

I wanted him so bad. Thank God he lived in the Village. But wait, was I assuming too much? Was he actually taking me back to his place to fool around? I tried to get a word or two out from under his tongue, but it was nearly impossible. I eventually just gave in and forgot everything else in the world. Nothing mattered, only us.

Guys and girls were leaving the club. I could hear their heels and boots in the background. Just some clicking and stopping and a few giggles and hoots, but other than that, it was only him and I.

Then, without much notice, he stopped. Looked me straight in the eye and said: “My place or yours?”

“Yours?!”, I said rather quickly.

We made it to his place. His shirt was already off. The sweat dripped down his abs like the legs on a glass of an excellent Bordeaux. We basically broke in the door. Falling to the floor he ripped my shirt off and started to undo my belt.

He was like a drug I kept taking hit after hit. He had me so high. The taste, the smell, everything. I couldn’t stop.

We never made it to the bed. I woke up the next morning with my head on his chest. He was fast asleep. Then I heard the doorbell ring. He was dead to the world, so I slowly got up, trying not to wake him. Headed to the front door, pearing out the window to see who it was. I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw Pablo rusting what looked like house keys. FUCK! He still has keys!

I went to turn around, but the door was already opening.

To be continued…

About the Author

|Contributor & Photographer| MA in cultural and political communications. Currently live in Montreal with my boyfriend and his cat, Shakira. Writer, #hashtagabuser, slow food advocate, culinary master, avid photographer, hopeless romantic, handsome pants, part-time lumberjack, occasional super hero, determined professional, master of witt, and self proclaimed food and wine junkie.



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  1. Ty

    Holy.. love this series..


  2. […] Read the last instalment of What is this Love? Part 4 here. […]

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