I lowered my head and brushed my lips against his. Our lips touched chastely, and after a minute, I pulled back.
“I don’t know how to kiss,” he admitted.
“I can teach you,” I told him. “Part your lips a little.”
He obeyed, and we deepened our kiss. He was open-mouthed and panting as I nudged my tongue into his mouth, and his hands slid up and down my arms before resting on my waist, holding me tight like he was afraid I would disappear. When Ipulled back to catch my breath, Leo’s pupils were dilated, and he was breathing hard.
It was nice. In the past, guys regarded kissing as a prelude to the main course of fucking, but right now, Leo was looking at me like I’d blown his mind.
“Winnie?” he whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Can we kiss in your bed?”
While his face didn’t betray any pain, he couldn’t have been comfortable, squished underneath me on my tiny couch, the hard arm of the couch digging into his back, his legs hanging off the edge.
I peeled off him, took his hand and led him to my bed. For a second, I cursed my past self for making such a mess of my room, and the fact I’d left half of my clothes on my bed covers, but it didn’t take me long to scoop up all the shirts and pants and shove them into my closet, before tugging Leo onto the bed with me.
He looked over my shoulder at the window. “Can you close the blinds?” he asked.
The window looked out at other apartments with their lights on, showing people sitting at their kitchen table or watching TV or folding laundry.
“No one will pay attention to us,” I said.
“They might.”
“Who cares if they see two people kissing?”
“I care,” Leo said quietly. “It’s private.”
I couldn’t argue with that, so I pulled the blind down, flicked the ceiling light off and turned on the lamp on my bedside table, which lit up half of Leo’s face, the other half washed in dark indigo.
“Do you want to lie down?” I asked.
He leaned back, his head resting on a pillow, and his legs sliding under the blanket. I did the same, ignoring the way my jeans dug uncomfortably into my hips.
Leo shuffled closer to me and kissed my lips. He was a little messy and his nose bumped mine a few times, but I didn’t mind. How could I when he was so eager?
“Am I doing a good job?” he asked after several minutes of kissing.
“Yes,” I breathed. I rolled onto my side to face him full-on, then winced.
“What?”
“It’s not you. It’s my jeans. They’re a bit tight. I think I ate too much at dinner.”
“You can take them off if you want,” he said.
I did want to. “I’ll change into my pyjama bottoms.” I stepped over him so I was standing on the floor. For a second, I considered changing in the bathroom, but we’d already kissed, and besides, this was my apartment. I unbuttoned my jeans and shimmied them down my legs. Thankfully, my shirt was long enough that I hope it covered my semi.
“Winnie?”
“Yeah?” I asked cautiously. Had he seen that I was half-hard?
“My pants are uncomfy, too. Would it be alright —”
“Oh, yeah, go ahead.”
