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Amanda Krumme Amanda Krumme
Recommendations: 18

Decency


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She had a friend.

This writing contains explicit content and is only for adults. You have been warned.

      I knock loudly on his bedroom door, but I open it before he answers. He's sitting on his bed in his boxers, drinking a beer and watching Animal Planet. I shut the door too hard, walk in, and casually plop down in front of him. I stare at the T.V. screen with a big goofy smile on my face. I hear him take a drink of his beer and set it on the night stand.


       "Riley,what are you doing?" He asks softly, gently. Like he's speaking to a child.


       "Just watching T.V. Mike. Same as you." He smiles. I don't see it, but I just know.


       "I mean what are you doing in here?" I could give the same answer, but I choose not to play games. I lie down and look back at his upside down face.


       "Well, your sister fell asleep already, and I'm a little bit drunk-"


       "I see that," he laughs. I bolt up and lunge myself at him clumsily.


       "SHHH!!" I say putting my finger on his lips. He looks amused. "Let me finish." I try to say it seriously, but my words slur and I grin.


       "Okay, okay. Go ahead." He says from behind my finger.


       "I'm a little drunk AND I could use some company AND you're here so you're my company. See?" I remove my hand and let it fall to his knee. He looks at it, then back up at me.


       "Uh huh... well maybe you should put some more clothes on?" I look down at myself in nothing but pink lace underwear and a tight black tank top. My skin blindingly white against his black sheets.


"Why? Does this bother you?" I ask pushing my breasts together and giggling like a school girl. He grabs my hands and gently places them on my thighs.


       "No, but it's a little inappropriate, Ri." His eyes don't leave mine.


       "Maybe YOU should put more clothes on," I point my finger in his face, lean slightly forward, and barely touch the tip of his nose. His lip quivers. That's right. Don't smile. Don't encourage the drunk.


       "If I put more clothes on, will you?" I think for a second.


       "Maybe," I answer, "maybe not." He sighs and stands from the bed. He grabs a t-shirt out of his dresser and puts it on, throws another one at me, then slips a pair of shorts on, too.


       "There you go," I unfold it and hold it out in front of me to examine. I put it against my face... it smells like him... maybe I will wear it... if only for that reason alone.


       "Does this bring out my eyes?" I bat my lashes at him.


       "Yes. Now put it on."


       "What if I don't?" I challenge.


       "Then you'll have to leave." Uh oh. This means war.


       "And what if I don't?" I raise an eyebrow.


       "I'll make you." He raises his in return. Touche, Mike, touche.


       "What if I come back?" I could keep this up forever.


       "I'll lock the door." I hadn't thought of that. Damn. Gotta think fast.


       "Before I come in, or after?" I bite my lip and give my best sexy look. Ha! Nailed it.


       "Riley," It is a stern warning. Shit.


       "Fine, fine," I hold my hands up in surrender. As I stand from the bed he sits back down and returns his attention to the television. I try to stretch, but I lose my balance and have to steady myself with the bed. He shakes his head, but does not look away from his show... correction... his commercials. I can entertain him better than that! 'Look at me!' I silently try to will him with my eyes. To no avail, though. As another drunken attempt to gain his interest, I pull my tank top over my head and sling it to the floor. He must have seen it out of the corner of his eye. He glances over but, seeing my naked chest, he quickly looks the other way, holding his arm up to block another accidental view. Not the reaction I was hoping for.


       "For the love of God, Riley!" He shouts. "That's not more clothes!" Really not the reaction I was hoping for. I feel tears prickle behind my eyes as I crawl back on to the bed and scoot next to him. "Riley, don't do this."


       "Why won't you look at me, Michael? " I ask quietly. He says nothing. Doesn't move an inch. He stays turned away from me. "That's all I've ever wanted, you know? You to notice me." I put my hand on his and softly squeeze.


       "I have, Ri. Maybe more than I should."


       "What does that mean, Mike? Do you have feelings for me? Are you ashamed to have feelings for me?"


       "You're my sister's best friend, Riley."


       "So what? What does that have to do with anything? Why don't you want me?" The last part is a sob. I feel my heart cracking. I've quietly adored him since I first met him- too young to know love or lust or to really have any interest in boys at all. As I grew, though, as I learned new feelings and new emotions and what they meant, I realized more and more that he is what I want. Who I want. I just want him to feel the same.


       "What if something goes wrong? What if whatever we have doesn't work out? What then?" He's looking at me now. Something resembling fear glistens in his eyes. I'm shocked, and no words form from my mouth. "Then you see Lisa less to avoid me. Then I don't see you at all. I don't want that to happen, Riley." I blink at him. He doesn't want to have me because he's too afraid to lose me... I should have something thoughtful to say... I should be touched that he wants to preserve what we have. I should be angry that he's not even willing to try. I should be relieved that the feelings come from his end- not just mine. I should be something... meaningful. My mind, numbed by alcohol, can only think one shallow, careless thought, though, and I speak it wothout thinking twice.


       "What about now though? I'm throwing myself right at you, Mike! Why not just fuck me?" I ask. His eyes widden in surprise, and then become unbearably sad.


       "Is that what you want?"


       "I want you,"


       "I want you, too"


       "Touch me, Mike," I take his hand and force him to cup my breast. He pulls it away, brushes the hair from my eyes, and leans his forhead against mine.


       "Not like this, Riley," he pleads with his eyes shut.
      
       "Don't you want to touch me? Is there something wrong with me?" His eyes open again.


       "You're beautiful, Riley, and trust me, it is taking every last ounce of decency in my body not to give in to you," I try to interrupt him, but he puts a finger to my lips. Much less forceful than when I did so to him. "What kind of man would I be though, if I took advantage of you this way?"


       "It's not taking advantage. I want this. So bad. So, so bad. " my voice trails off.


       "You want it? Or does the whiskey and beer make you think you want it?"


       "Me. I do. I want it." No question. No hesitation.


       "Okay, now think. You want it like this? Drunk? Numb? A hazy, maybe even regretable memory in the back of your mind? Or would you rather have passion? Your mind clear and wide awake. Able to take in and truly experience every... last... second..." At some point during his speech he began tilting his head the opposite way. Slowly inching his lips closer to mine. Tantalizing me. My breathing is shallow, my body shakes. I try to close the tiny distance and press my lips against his, but with lightning fast reflexes he takes ahold of my chin and makes the distance much larger. "Answer me," It's a request not an order. He releases my chin. I look down at my hands in my lap.


       "I want it to be special. I want to remember."


       "Good." He hands me the t-shirt I never put on. "Get dressed." I comply. "Can I make a deal with you?"


       "What is it?" I ask with a yawn.


       "If you remember any of this in the morning, I'd like to talk about... us... over coffee." I lay back and rest my head on his pillow. I smile.


       "Like a date?" I nearly whisper and giggle softly. He chuckles.


       "Yeah, Ri. Kinda like a date."


       "What if I don't remember? "


       "What do you want to happen if you don't remember? " I think for a moment and yawn again.


       "I want to talk about it over coffee," I answer.


       "Like a date?" He jokingly mocks me.


       "Yes," I answer no longer able to keep my eyes open.


       "Deal," he says leaning down to kiss my forhead. He leaves the room, and I drift to sleep. 1 comment


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