A flood of emotion swelled through me as our lips touched. I felt alive and healthy, warm and pulsating. I wasn't dancing, I was kissing, but my body couldn't quite tell the difference at the moment. Some quivering cadence of molten fire surged through me.
I nearly passed out from the raw feeling of it. Overwhelmed, the warmth crashed into me and made me shaky on my feet. I teetered from side to side in a strange, intoxicated state, and would have fallen if Evan hadn't caught me. The warmth of his fingers was softer than the heat of his lips and it leveled me to a more balanced state of pleasure.
I stared at him. He looked at me, concerned, but not too much. Happy, yes, and worried, and curious. I liked Evan. He seemed like a nice person.
"Do you want to come in?" I asked.
...
I shouldn't have invited anyone into my house, because I never cleaned it. Not to say it was horribly dirty, but it wasn't in the best of shape before I arrived, and I'd done nothing to fix it up afterwards, either. I used the kitchen for the bowls, spoons, the microwave, and a can opener, then the bedroom for the bed and the bookcase, and that was about it.
We stumbled inside, tripping over a clutter of jackets laying on the ground near the coat closet.
"It's nothing fancy," I said. "I should clean more, but it's difficult to remember to."
"This is a really nice house," he said, awed. "I love it. I used to live with another guy before everything happened, so I don't mind the clutter too much. It's not even that bad to be honest."
"I try to take out the trash at the very least," I said. Why was I telling him this? I sounded like some dirty loser. "I don't eat much, though. I get full really fast. I think that's a part of this? I'm not sure."
Evan nodded, listening, peering around my home. He moved past me and walked into the dining area with the open kitchen to the right. There was a living room off to the left, open as well, then a glass door in front of us leading to a porch and the backyard.
"This is nice," he said, removing his crossbow and quiver from his back and tucking them into a corner of the living room. "Too bad that huge TV doesn't work."
I laughed. "It does work, actually, but I don't use it. There's nothing ever on."
"Huh?" he asked.
"Look. Come here." Pointing the way through the rear glass door, I showed him the generator hidden near the back side of the house. "I fill it with gas from a nearby gas station. It's been running fine since I came. I try not to use it often, though, because I don't know how long it'll last. I love it, though. It's not much, but..."
"What?" he asked. "It's alright. You can tell me if you want. I won't think it's strange."
I laughed because that was exactly what I'd been thinking. Strange, Sadie. Why are you telling this man you've just met about all the terrible things that are wrong with you? I was kind of surprised he hadn't run away screaming yet.
"I turn it on for a few minutes every couple of days to use the microwave," I whispered. "I heat up a can of beans or soup or whatever I can find while I'm out and about--" Oh, yes, out and about. Like I was just heading to the store to do some weekly shopping. "It really helps. I know it's dumb, but when I eat hot food, I feel normal for a little while. I don't know how long, but it helps."
I felt so emotional and stunted, like I was some shriveled plant begging a gardener to water me. Except I wasn't a nice plant like a rose bush, nor a useful plant like a tomato vine. I wasn't even common grass. I was some hideous weed that everyone wanted to get rid of, to toss out, except if you didn't do it properly I'd just grow back and piss you off even more. I didn't want to do that, I didn't want to annoy anyone and continue growing where I didn't belong, but I didn't have any other choice, either.
"It's probably been a long day for you, huh?" Evan asked. "You're probably tired."
This was it. He was going to pluck me up and toss me out, make some excuse for me to go to bed and then leave me alone.
"I'm not too tired," I said, praying I didn't sound desperate. I knew I did, but I didn't want to.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
I wished I was. "I ate yesterday."
"Ah. Right."
"My bedroom's over here," I said. "I'll probably lay down for a little while. I'm sure I'll feel better when I get up."
A lie, of course. He probably knew that, but I offered him the escape anyways. There wasn't anything wrong with leaving while I slept, since that's what most people did. An easy out, a way for him to go, and that was that. I stumbled towards the bedroom, feeling the remnants of his touch--his heat--fading away from me.
He didn't follow me like I knew he wouldn't. Down the hallway off to the side of the living room, past the stairs to the second floor, then into the master bedroom. I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. Shambling towards the bed, only a few feet more, I fell onto it. My face hit the blanket-covered mattress and I bounced up and down once before settling into place.
I closed my eyes. Maybe I should sleep like this? Why not? Who cared? When I woke up, I'd be dizzy and disoriented, unsure what was going on, so it hardly mattered. Sometimes it took me an hour to push away the haze and realize somewhat about where I was and what had happened, though other times it came faster.
The bedroom door opened, then clicked shut, and footsteps approached me while I stared at the blankets.
"What," I said, voice muffled by fleece.
"I'm kind of tired, myself," Evan said. "I didn't want to intrude in the rest of the house, so I thought I'd come in here. If you don't mind lending me a pillow, maybe I could sleep on your floor? A blanket would be nice, but I don't need one."
I spun around fast, laying on my back, and lifted my head up to look at him. "What?"
"I can leave if--"
"No, it's alright. You don't have to sleep on the floor. It's a big bed. I don't know if there's anymore blankets, so we can share one." My eyes darted towards the closed closet by the bedroom door where there were shelves filled with blankets.
Evan laughed. "If that's alright. I don't want to bother you."
"It's not a bother," I said, sitting up. I felt colder now, but the prospect of his warm body beneath the blanket with me gave me hope and promise of feeling nicer soon.
"I..."
"Yes?" I asked, shifting around the bed, fixing things, making it look nice and presentable. I turned down one corner and patted that side, beckoning Evan over.
"I don't want to sound perverted," he said. "I was thinking, though. If you're alright with it, maybe we could sleep nak*d?"
I blinked. "Um?"
Flustered, he let out a laugh and scratched his head. "Yeah... that came out wrong. I meant that, well, you like the feeling of warmth, right? I'm not trying to pressure or coerce you into this, and I swear I'll be a gentleman, but like I mentioned, I used to be an EMT, and it's a common survival tactic for people trapped in cold weather. I'm sure you're fine, but I thought it might help. We don't have to if you don't want to."
"Alright," I said. Shimmying to the edge of the bed, I grabbed the skirt of my dress and started lifting it up my legs.
"Alright what?" Evan asked.
The dress slid up my body, past my stomach, and I grabbed the sides and lifted it up the rest of the way off. Sitting on the bed in my bra and panties, I looked at him.
"We can do what you said," I said, pulling off my shoes and socks.
"Oh."
I scooted under the bed, hiding beneath the blankets, then pulled off my panties and unclasped my bra. I tossed both undergarments onto the floor with my dress.
Evan stood stockstill, staring at me.
"What?" I asked.
He laughed. "Oh. Right. I hope I didn't come across as odd, that's all."
"No." I shook my head. I didn't want to say more because I didn't want to scare him off.
Evan began undressing. I watched him, savoring it. He unbuttoned the front of his shirt and then slipped his arms out of the sleeves. Letting his shirt fall to the ground, he started unbuckling his belt. Unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, he let them fall to his ankles, too. He kicked his shoes off and stepped out of his pants.
It wasn't exactly the most erotic thing, but I couldn't stop looking at him. He stood in the middle of my bedroom near the foot of my bed wearing only his boxers. Slightly tented in the front, I saw a faint glimpse of his half-erect c*ck peeking through the slit in the front of his underwear.
Ignoring me, or not noticing me ogling him, Evan rushed to the other side of the bed, lifted up the blankets, and slipped under. Mesmerized, I watched his c*ck bounce beneath his underwear as he ran over.
He fidgeted under the blankets until he managed to remove his boxers, then tossed them off to the side.
"How do you want to do this?" he asked.
I laughed. "I don't know. I thought you were the professional."
I turned to look at him and he shrugged, relaxing. "Right," he said. "I think the best way is to spoon. So just--"
I inched towards him beneath the covers and he came to meet me halfway. Huddled under the blankets in the middle of the bed, we joined together in some awkward display of fidgeting and fixing this, figuring things out, moving here and there.
I faced away from him and he slowly approached me. His hand touched my hip. I let out a gasp at the heat of it.
"I'll go slow," he said.
Gently, carefully, we came together. Evan pressed towards me, easing me into the sensation of warmth infringing upon my previously cool exterior. His hand touched my back, igniting sparks on my skin. I arched towards him, biting my lower lip. I doubted he had this in mind when he'd suggested we do this, but I couldn't help it.
Evan's chest pressed against my back. Slow at first, barely grazing my skin, soothing and nice, then moving more until we lay tight together. His hand on my hip moved forwards, unsure, until he touched against my taut stomach. I breathed in sharply, exhilarated at his warmth, but not wanting to tell him for fear he'd run away from me.
What would I say, anyways? Oh, yes, I really like this. I mean I really like it. I'd already said enough to scared him off, but he stayed, and I refused to risk it by saying more needless things.
Evan wrapped one leg around mine, holding me close. He seemed careful and delicate, not wanting to push this over the edge towards obvious impoliteness. I understood and I tried to act the same, but it was difficult.
It wasn't difficult because of his chest pressed against my back or his hand touching my side and holding my stomach. Nor was it difficult because of his chin near my shoulders or his leg tangled with mine.
No, none of that. His c*ck was still semi-hard and no matter how much he tried to inch the center of his body away from me, I could feel the heat of it touching against my butt.
"What's wrong?" I asked, even though I knew exactly what was wrong. I twisted in his arms, looking over my shoulder at him.
"Sorry," Evan said, giving me a sheepish grin. "I swear I'm not trying to come on to you here. Down there. You know? It'll die down. Just a natural reaction. I'm really sorry about that."
"It's alright," I said. I pushed back against him, reveling in the fire of his body.