another short story... i was bored
Lying on the couch, staring at him, was one of my favorite things to do. His face looked so different from the side, it looked almost innocent. I never got to see him that way he was such a trouble maker, plus he liked his drugs and drinking.there was never anything innocent about him, but in that moment he looked as innocent as he could get.
He looked over at me with his usual serious face, but the second I smiled at him, his face lightened up like a light, at least that's what it looked like to me. When he smiled the world smiled with him, it was that kind of smile.
In that moment it was like his eyes were burning through me. He leaned over, giving me a little kiss. He gave me a look, but not just any look it was "the" look, it was the look he gave me when he wanted something and until he got it, I wasn't getting any attention. There was a slight silence between us, finally I said "what do you want?" I looked at him curiously. He looked down at my legs that were drapped over his thighs and I could feel his hand creeping up my leg to my knee. He slid his hand under my knee and lifted it up so my knee was bent and my leg was that much closer to his face. He leaned his head towards my thigh and kissed it gently before slowly opening his mouth and biting me softly. After a few nibbles he sank his teeth harder into my leg. It hurt but, I liked it. He made me want more so what ever he wnated I wasn't giving it to him. He looked at me giving me a chance to give him what he wanted. when I just smiled at him, he bit even harder. After that, I knew it was going to leave a bruise, the pain was almost aganising but, I had to ignore it and concentrate on not showing that it hurt. He went on like that for a good 5 minutes before he gave up and realised how much I liked it. He looked up at me, and said "I want you to come get a kiss." I felt pleased that I had got him to talk. I didn't want to give him any kisses because I wanted more bites but, for his sake I leaned in and kissed him gently.
