Necking in near-hybrids with homos.
While a friend who may or may be my roommate lost both her half and whole virginity in a car, until last night I’d yet to even make out in a vehicle, stationary or otherwise.
“This is you?”
“This is me.”
Open, open.
Shut, shut.
Buckle up.
Glance over,
grin,
annnd -
we’re
“Two men kissing in West Hollywood,” Sid36 smirked as a lone civilian strolled past his Civic.
“Fancy boy that.” I ensnared his lips in mine once again.
Despite the ease in his groping of my bulge that satin dodgeball shorts indulged, the most titillating public display occurred on the way from the bar to his car.
Is he – I watched him begin to unzip his hoodie. Is he gonna give my his JACKET?
“You don’t have to do that.” He slipped the cozy cotton over my shoulders. “You’re only wearing a T-shirt, too.”
“Yeah,” he smirked, “but I’m going to fuck you first.”
“Oh – that’s right.” I snuggled into his sweatshirt and the crook of his arm.
It may not have been a letterman’s jacket, and the pinning he had in mind for our future was more of a salacious innuendo than a traditional declaration of commitment, but in terms of referring to a state of mind so tangible it’s almost a physical destination – I was most certainly in Pleasantville.
And you can relax, mom, we’ve yet to penetrate the Bonertown border. That’s still a few dates up the thighway.
I was going to leave a comment about losing my virginity over the trunk of my grandma's car but your story was too sweet for me to dirty it with any more talk of that.
awww. that is cute, in a gay way. lol.