"You've gotten better," I say, the soft notes resounding in my ears.
He shrugs. "More or less."
I pause, admiring the way his dark hair hangs in his eyes. "Rob, I'm bored!" I cry, falling back onto the pillow.
He puts down his guitar and looks at me. "So am I."
I groan in response. "What can we do on a Sunday?"
He shrugs again. "I don't know."
"It's summer," I continue impatiently. "We're supposed to be having the time of our lives."
"But there's nothing to do at my house," he answers, examining a green guitar pick.
"So let's make things to do." I sit back up on his bed and run my hands through my hair.
"Like what? Paint each other's nails?" He sneers.
"Oh, shut up. There has to be something. Do you have any good movies?"
"Movies?" Rob repeats, frowning. Then his face breaks into a smile. "I have the Girl Next Door."
"No, I've seen it."
"She's fucking hot. The best part was-"
"Let me guess. The sex." Seeing him smile and nod, I have to laugh. "You are so predictable."
"Oh my God, like completely." Rob pretends to examine his fingernails in what he thinks is a perfect imitation of me.
I throw a pillow at him and prop myself on my elbows. "I wonder what it feels like," I mutter softly.
"What what feels like?" Rob asks, leaning towards the bed.
We both look at each other at the same time, but I lower my eyes and grin. "So, Rob, what does it feel like?"
"Dunno," he responds, running a hand over the stubble on his chin. "I've only done it once."
"And you probably sucked at it," I say, ducking the pillow that comes flying at my head. "Did you?"
"How should I know?"
"Well, if the girl was screaming your name, it was probably from orgasm. Although," I say, eyeing his big shoulders and muscular arms, "in your case it was probably to get off of her because you were just so bad that she-" This time the pillow gets my head.
"Rob!" I scream, getting up and running towards him. "You're dead."
"Oh, yes, what are you going to do? Hit me with your princess wand?" I kick at him but he holds me by my wrists to keep me away.
I try to writhe free and he stands up, still keeping a firm grip on my wrists. "Weak," he hisses, in a voice that only makes me more determined. I jerk one arm free, causing both of us to lose our balance and topple over on his bed.
Rob rolls off my body. I hear his breathing and inhale his scent as he lies there next to me. Suddenly I feel the familiar feeling I've had so many times before.
"You hurt my arms," I say, my voice cutting the silence sharply. I take in every last detail of his room, from the brown walls to the gray boxers thrown in a corner of the room.
"Yeah?" He turns over and grabs my wrists again. "You can't defend yourself." He looks at me and I stare back, realizing for the first time in all these years how dark his eyes are.
"You hit me with a pillow," I respond carefully. "You hit me hard."
"It was my pillow," he replies in a soft voice. "You stole my pillow."
"You threw it at me," I say. My voice is almost a whisper.
"That's because you said I'm bad at sex." Rob speaks gently, in a very calm tone.
"Maybe you are bad at sex," I answer.
"Maybe we should try," he says, and leans in to kiss me. His tongue is warm as he massages mine with it. He places a hand on the curve of my waist and our bodies roll into one another, keeping us in place as the heat intensifies.
"Take off your clothes," I breathe, "before I start without you." He slips his shirt over his head to reveal big arms and a firm stomach, just as I had imagined. Except this time, it's real.
I unzip my shirt and slide my underwear down my legs, leaving only a black bra and short skirt. He trails two fingers down my thighs and parts my legs, trying to find the opening. "There you are," he whispers and pushes his fingers in.
I gasp and close my eyes while pain spreads through my lower half. But it isn't a bad pain. It's a pain I'm craving.
My breathing gets heavier and I pant, pushing into his shoulders. He thrusts his fingers deeper and I groan while my legs start to shake. He brings the other hand up to slip off his boxers. I let out cries and his tongue circles my lips.
"Ready?" he chuckles and pulls out two wet fingers. An instant later, he's shoved himrself inside of me. Sweat covers out bodies and he pumps harder. A weird sensation comes over me that feels like an explosion.
My legs stretch even further apart as we go at it furiously, pumping harder and faster. I bite his shoulder, he scratches my back. slow down. He's still panting, only slower and more relaxed. I gasp for air and grip on to his shoulder, my tangle of long hair covering my sweaty back. There's cum on the insides of my thighs.
He pulls himself out of me and my lips still feel like they're being pryed apart. He tightens his grip on me, his fingers digging into the mess of my hair and presses his body up against mine.
I close my eyes.
"Rob," I finally say. "Rob, I love you."
"How was I?" he breathes shakily.
"I want to do it again." I pull my head up from his chest and look up into his almond-shaped eyes. "We'll do it again."
"Really?" he asks.
"We'll do it later. Maybe tomorrow, too."
"Anytime. You know I'm always ready." He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and turns around, scanning the room for his boxers. "We'll be like fuck-friends. You know, the pleasure of sex without the responsibilities." He turns his head halfway to look at me. "Is that okay?" he asks, frowning a little. "Fuck friends?"
I gulp them recover quickly by nodding. He smiles, then turns his head back around. "Yeah," I say weakly. "Friends."
Obviously. Because when I said I love you, I meant only as a friend.