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Curt catches my eye, nods if I want to dance. Of course I did. This was exactly what I needed. Some fun, excitement, sex maybe. A slow ‘Blue Moon’ played as we drifted into each other’s arms. He had grown much taller, stronger, since we made out in the back of the school yard. Curt was now sixteen. His smile made my knees weak. His scent filled me. My heart did that little pitter patter, and more than anything I needed to taste his lips. But I wasn’t going to make the first move. If Curt wanted a li’l sumthin’ he’d have to work for it. We went from the usual dance position to holding each other, swaying. Who cared who made the first move? The crowded dance floor disappeared and I swear there was only us, alone. There isn’t much to say when lust heats you up. There wasn’t much to say except, “We need to be alone, now!” His parents were at a dinner party; his brother over at his girl’s place. Curt and I never made it upstairs to his bedroom but stripped right there on the living room floor. Sex was rough. Not what I expected.Not what I thought would happen. Sex was sex nonetheless. Curt apologized for the bruises down my back. I didn’t know they were even there. I was still immersed in hot sweat. Still trying to catch my breath and get my brain straight. Curt started to make it up to me. Tender and slow kisses, his face covers mine and all my nightmares vanish for the moment. Curt made love to me. He made love to the old me, to the make-out sessions that were never fulfilled. In his arms I lost myself. I into him. Him into me. Not love but caring tenderness that I missed from Mario. I wasn’t some ‘thing’, some piece of ass. Not to Curt. We made love and afterwards we lay in each other’s arms. Curt said he’d thought of me for years. Wondering whatever happened. I couldn’t tell him the truth and wondered if I would ever be able to tell anyone the whole truth. Like what you've read? Buy the book here |
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