A plain glass ashtray sits on the kitchen table. A pack of cigarettes sits next to it. There is a chill, wafting through the flat from the back balcony, on which Adam sits, smoking, listening to something on his phone. I’ve been here forty minutes and we haven’t even hooked up yet, although I suppose that’s coming. I wait in Adam’s room, snooping around, strumming the strings of his electric guitar as if I have the slightest idea what I’m doing. The balcony door closes loudly. Adam calls through the flat. ‘I’m coming in and you’d better be naked.’
My hair is frizzy. I try to smooth it, and then give up, I’m only making it worse. Adam steps into the bedroom, shaking out his hair, pulling his long-sleeved tee over his head. I lie across the bed, on my stomach, so that my cleavage is clearly visible overtop the cups of my bra. Adam is eyeing it, taking a seat next to me on the bed. ‘Beautiful.’ The bra comes undone with one swift twist of his hand, falling onto the blankets, I tug it out from underneath me, let him touch my breasts, fingers gentle. ‘Have I told you that you’re gorgeous?’
I sweep my fingers down his chest, begin to unclasp the belt from around his waist. ‘I’m gorgeous? Have you seen yourself? You look like a fucking god.’ The belt comes undone, Adam finishes slipping out of his blue jeans, kicks them across the floor next to mine. I pull his hands back to my chest.
‘Paisley.’ His mouth brushes across my earlobe, making me shiver. ‘Roll over.’ I do, sprawling out onto my back. He is hovering over me a moment later, touching through the fabric of my black thong, I’ve never done this before, it’s overwhelmingly satisfying. The thong slides off, falling into the ruffled blankets, fingers on my skin, delicate, decisive. I grope, frantic, slip one of my hands into his briefs, grabbing, I don’t know what I’m doing.
‘Adam.’ My voice comes out as a gasp, quiet, it’s getting harder to think, he’s made me come already, it’s been less than five minutes. ‘I have to tell you something.’
He’s flipping through the things in the side table, straddling me. ‘What’s that? Fuck, where did that condom go?’ I watch him dig through the drawer, he really is gorgeous. I have to say it. He has the right to know.
I sigh. ‘I’m a virgin.’ A lot of people find that hard to believe. ‘That doesn’t change anything, I still want to hook up, I just thought you should know.’
The rummaging stops. Adam continues to straddle me, watching me with intense blue eyes. ‘You want to? You’re sure?’ I’m sure. ‘Oh, fuck, you’re underaged, aren’t you?’
He’s getting distracted. I take his hands, place them on my chest again. ‘We’re six years apart, I’m seventeen.’ That’s old enough. ‘Now stop worrying and find your fucking condom. Here, I’ll help.’
The drawer is still open, he grins, begins to flip through it again, pulling out a small square package. Our faces are awfully close together, almost touching, and then they are, and teeth are tugging at my lips, nibbling down my jawline, hands tracing up and around my stomach and chest. I’ve sure chosen a hell of a person to be my first. I’ll spend the rest of my life comparing everyone else I meet. Adam’s hand is between my hips, again, stroking, light, only the smallest amount of pressure. He rips open the aluminium packet with his teeth, impressive, gets prepared, hovers over me again.
I take a breath, whisper into the side of his neck. ‘Gentle. I’m afraid it will hurt…’ I’ve heard it does, though not from anyone I know very well.
Adam is slow, cautious, slipping inside of me with such ease and patience I don’t feel any discomfort at all. I’ve really got no idea what I’m doing, holding onto him tightly, wrapping my legs around his waist. It’s quite easy. I’m very flexible. He holds my hands straight above my head, pressed flat against the pillow, holding them together with one hand around my wrists. The other hand touches me, so little pressure it’s barely touching me at all. I have a very pleasant chill. I gasp, something hurts, and now the air smells faintly of blood, and I mumble ‘ouch’ and Adam is about to stop, but I don’t want him to and anyway it’s just a tiny bit of pain, it’s gone now. ‘Keep going,’ I whisper, sticking my hips higher in the air, and he does, and fuck this is amazing.
I wrap my legs tighter, pressing against his gorgeous body, deeper, filling every inch of me. We’re both a bit noisy, but who cares, we’re the only ones here. ‘Hey, Adam,’ I grin, digging my fingernails into his back, ‘I can put my legs all the way round my neck.’ Hell, he’s good, hands tracing down my chest, around my breasts, down my ribs and thighs,
Mouth at my neck, he breathes into my ear: amused, slightly out of breath. ‘You’d better let me see that sometime.’ Hands underneath me, squeezing at my arse, groans stifled into the skin of my neck, moving so quickly that I can barely keep up. The angle we’ve got going is really doing it for me, I’m breathing quickly, I’ve noticed one of my eyes rolling backwards, I should get a handle on that.
I nibble at the side of his neck, letting my lips linger. ‘I will, if you fuck me again sometime.’ I can barely breathe, it seems that we’re both having a bit of trouble with that. Here we go, again, an intense sensation in the ball of my stomach, I take a handful of Adam’s hair, yank on it, groaning loudly.
His face is nuzzled into the side of my neck. ‘Oh, you’d better believe I will.’ It’s a grumble, hoarse, accompanied by one more groan, and I fall onto the bed, breathless, Adam begins to wipe at the bedsheets with a paper towel. I feel bad about that. ‘I’m sorry about that.’
He’s kneeling in front of me, flushed, rolling the sheets back up onto the bed. ‘Nah, no need for that, are you peckish? There’s fittle in the kitchen.’ He tosses a tee shirt at me, it falls to my mid thigh. ‘Come on, let’s go eat.’
This shirt smells of Old Spice and cigarettes. Adam disappears into the kitchen, I sneak a sniff to the bottom of the shirt, casual, joining him a moment. From all the stories Addie’s told, I’d assumed him to be less accommodating, maybe not into hanging around girls after hooking up with them. I’m pleasantly surprised, make a mental note to myself to not judge people from things I hear about them. ‘What kind of food do you have?’ I make myself comfortable in the armchair.
‘Wait.’ He’s standing in the entrance to the sitting room, wearing only a pair of boxers, leaning up against the doorframe, grinning. ‘Put your feet around your neck.’ ’
Goddamn, he’s fit. ‘Why?’ I grin, too, remaining seated in the same position, ‘Don’t believe I can do it? I’m very flexible, you know.’ I’m being suggestive. I’m fairly certain he picks up on it, winking, wagging an eyebrow at me. ‘Fine, then, watch this.’ I stretch my legs, pull them backwards, fold them around my neck, a skill I’ve practiced for mostly my entire life. ‘I told you I could do it.’ I flash a wink.
Adam looks amazed, everyone always does when they see me do it. ‘What the fuck, how do you do that?’
I unfold myself, sit cross-legged in the armchair. ‘I’m a dancer. I can do a lot of crazy things. Maybe you’ll see some more sometime.’ Stop it, Paisley. You’re just having a good time, that’s all. Just a hookup, that’s all he does, stop getting so ahead of yourself. He’s so fun to flirt with, though.
He tosses me a package of biscuits, stretches out across the sofa with a bag of wine gums. ‘These are my favourite. Soz, I haven’t actually got any real food over here.’ I unwrap the package, slowly, wondering how long I’m allowed to stay now we’ve, well. He flicks the television on, grabbing a game console from the coffee table, spreading his legs over the arm of the sofa. ‘’I’d say we should get back to the party, but Addie’s bound to have passed out by now, it’s probably over then, ain’t it?’ He shrugs, shoving a big handful of wine gums into his mouth.
I’ve got an idea, before I go back for the night. ‘You, know, I’ve never seen your band practice. D’you think you could play a song for me before I go?’ I feel like I’ve been here too long, I should get back to Addie’s flat, call it a night.
‘’Course I can.’ Adam leaps up, takes off down the hallway, calling back to me, ‘Come on, then!’ He sits on the edge of the bed, strumming the electric guitar, tapping a foot on the floor out of concentration. ‘I can’t sing,’ he shrugs, strumming a long, complicated string of notes, ‘or else I’d sing for you, too. Ah, well.’
I’m still wearing the long shirt he gave me, I suppose I should change back into my own clothes. ‘I’ll bet you could sing if you tried.’ I crawl through the room, listening closely to the sound of the notes, gathering up all my clothes. ‘You’re really good at guitar, anyway! How long have you been playing?’
I sit in front of him, pulling my shirt over my head. He flips the guitar around, starts to play it the other way. ‘I started taking lessons when I was ten. Come here, I’ll show you how to play.’
I don’t have to be asked twice, and jump up, taking a seat eagerly on the bed next to him, taking the guitar. He’s brushing against me, cupping his hands over mine, moving my fingers to strum the strings, bobbing his head to the beat. A shiver, I think I just fell in love.
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