We watch a movie cuddling, like we do all the time, and afterward you hug me like usual, but this time after you pull back you hold on to my hips, then slide your hands up under my shirt to the smallest part of my waist, pull me closer again and kiss me softly on the lips. You kiss me again, more passionately, and you feel me return the enthusiasm because I thrust myself up onto my toes. So you wrap your arms all the way around me and hold me up to you. Eventually, our lips part, but you're not done. You plunge to my collarbone and start dotting it with kisses. I relax to the gentleness with with you are touching and holding me. But suddenly, your grip tightens me to you, pinning my arms to your chest, and you nip at the base of my neck all the way to up right under my ears. Using your tongue and teeth, you play with my ear; I hear you chuckle low at my gasping before you pull away.
I find myself raising my eyebrows expectantly. I'm asking why you stopped but I haven't said a word. I can't; I'm breathless. Your arms unlock themselves and I feel air rush back into my lungs as you let go a little. I'm suddenly disappointed, as if you now owed me something. But I judged too soon. I feel your hands slide back down my body and your fingers curl around the bottom of my sweatshirt. It's your turn to be surprised: there's clearly no shirt underneath it. You lift the hem a little and I pull my arms free of your chest and over my head, waiting. You slowly pull my sweatshirt up and off, but not before it catches on my tits because, despite my little waist, they're big enough to get in the way. You throw my sweatshirt to the side, not paying attention to it anymore; it was simply a barrier between my soft skin and you. Breathing a little easier now, I cock my head and say "Well that's not very fair, is it?" And before you can stop me, I grab your shirt and pull it off over your head. I open the door, hang it on the doorknob, and close and lock the door behind me. The shirt is a sign to others: Don't come in, we'll be busy.