Heat

It burned, but I couldn’t stop myself. The lust was strong, the heat unbearable. Even at that I couldn’t let go, wouldn’t let go. Those dark eyes, oh how they captivated me. I felt those soft hands rise up my back, tracing the warmth burning under my skin. I ran up his shirt thumping along those rivets of hard toned muscle.

The touch of our lips sent my mind into a primal state. Our heat overtook the dark room. Our carnal urges flooding out of every pore and spreading into the stillness of night. I felt the soft cotton of my shirt sliding away from my skin, edging over my head and slinking to floor. His hands ran up my chest, my senses burst with ecstasy. He pushed me down on his creaky bed, the springs digging into my back.

I didn’t care, I was on fire. He slipped off his shirt as well. Creeping up my stomach I felt his lips lightly pucker, Shivers of pleasure raced along my back. It was all I could do to not scream.

I knew I couldn’t, we were forbidden and wrong, but right and acceptable all at the same time. Was it love? Was it lust? Maybe a little of both. I knew that I couldn’t let the heat die down. I didn’t want to cool off and I knew he didn’t either. His arms wrapped around me, lips making contact, hot and powerful my eyes remained closed. But I could still see his face, that sharp bronze face looking down at me.

What was that look? Could it be Love? I took control, rolling him onto his back and biting at his neck. The tight skin burned like mine. Were we the same? Feeling the same? He gave a slight whimper; we were going too far.

Still, we continued. He regained control, that strong, masculine hand sliding on my thigh, the thick denim wasn’t enough to block the sensation. He rolled me back over. Eyes glittering from the moonlight shining through the blinds. My jeans became unbuttoned, the zipper clicked quietly downward. Ever so slightly, ever so quiet, he slid them off. They felt so good it hurt. My entire body was teaming with feeling, everything tingled and everything was a pleasure point.

There I was, barely clad in my boxers, as he made his way back up my stomach. Then my chest. My mind was screaming about morals and virtue. My heart was screaming about love. We were going too far; I knew it, but didn’t want to stop. I just wanted to feel his heat, feel his warm lips on mine. Those strong hands gripping my back, my chest, my everything.

I reached for his khakis only to stop myself. He felt me stop. The hesitance boomed like a fog horn. “What’s the matter?” he asked, nibbling at my ear. The warmth is gone. The raw heat turning to cold grim reality.

“We can’t. I can’t.” I get up, not wanting to look at him. Not wanting to see those beautiful eyes accepting me. “I’m sorry.”

“I understand. Not everyone can accept themselves for who they are.” He’s so kind. I want him so much, but my mind is calling the shots now. The Bible is ringing through my skull while my heart is cracking.

I pull my clothes back on in the darkness. I don’t want to see his face. That sharp jaw and soft smile are more than I can take. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school,” I said as I reached the door handle. Pushing it slowly so his parents won’t wake.

“Yeah... I love you.” Why did he say it? Love? Real love? I want it so badly. I want to love him. I do love him. But I can’t. It’s not right. It’s not true. Sinners go to hell and feeling this way towards him is a sin.

My voice was shaking, I can barely mutter, “I wish I could too.” Across the hall I tiptoed, keeping my ears peeled for sounds of life. Outside I started walking for home, it’s just a few blocks away and dark enough no one can see me cry. Not that anyone would see me at two in the morning.

I crumpled to my knees, a shattered heart holding me down, wondering why. “How can love be wrong?”