bakerstreet | Boiling Point Kiss Meme

Boiling Point Kiss Meme

Boiling Point Kiss

Oh, this person has really done it now! Whether you usually get along like peas in a pod or like cats with their tails tied together, at this moment, you two are really, really arguing. You're hurt, you're angry, you're infuriated! You hate them - but actually, you hate that you love them, because feelings have been growing and shaping up for some time. All this tension, all this anger, it's all about to come to a head.

So you do the most natural thing in the world: you kiss them.

It's one part getting them to shut up, one part instinct, and one part admitting your feelings. Still, you're not thinking. You're just going on adrenaline.

...that won't stop reality, though, and after the kiss is over, you may just have to fess up about what made you pull (or drag) them in and pucker up.

Comment with character, info if you'd like, preferences, and if you'd rather have your character kiss or do be kissed.
Reply to others.
You can play before and through the kiss, starting with the kiss, after the kiss, whatever you'd like.

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[She honestly can't stand it anymore. They can't even have fun, can't laugh at the school and the people in it (who really, really do need laughing at), can't shoot the shit about anything because he's gotten so aggressive about pursuing her. And it really is just because she says no, she knows that, but the thing is that she hasn't got any illusions about it anyway. Petre won't break her heart. She doesn't want anything special, doesn't really believe in anything special - the sheer insult of his promiscuity being used as a selling point at every turn is all that's driven her away. Like she should thank him for wanting to add her to a list.

But really. Who cares, when it comes down to brass tacks? If it makes him shut up and be a laugh again, why keep holding out? She needs some - not friends, she won't go that far, but some laughs around here.

So when he moves in closer once again while they're out smoking, she slowly and carefully drops her cigarette, snuffs it out with the toe of her boot as she always does, but doesn't turn away. Instead, she grabs him by the back of the head and yanks him toward her, tilting her own head to lock their mouths together with hers already open. Show her what you've got, big boy, it's your one chance.]

Mmmf--

[A sound that leaves him when he's about to throw just another taunt at her, instead surprised by her decision to give him exactly what he's been asking for all this time. One can never say he begged for it - no, what Petre does is demand like the spoiled brat he is. He teases and demands and never quite makes the last move to outright force it from her because then it wouldn't be half as fun. He's explained it to her, too. Why he doesn't simply attempt to make it an order, even when she's not within the range of canceling out his power. He claims he'd never do that anyway.

He's done nothing when she moves in to kiss him. At least he doesn't think he has. Several hypotheses cross his mind and none of them seem to make sense, unless Celeste is actually an even bigger mess of a mystery to any charmer. His eyes shut immediately, cigarette still hanging from his fingers, mouth shut until he gathers himself and angles his head properly, lips working to suck on hers before his tongue slips in, licks at her gently explores to tease out every sensation. His other hand moves to grip at her nape, too, until they're apart and breathing just a little heavily with a slight daze in their gaze.]

Well, then.

[She's definitely breathless when they part, not moving her hand from the back of his head just yet, her own tilted upward to try and play it off but that was really good. Martin was a bit of a sloppy kisser, she even thought so with no other experience; Petre managed to involve his tongue without gagging her, suck without slobbering, and it's all left her flushed with a faint, tingling heat.]

You know, you might do after all. [She looks into his eyes for a moment, her own suddenly darker than usual, pupils blown wide with arousal. When she leans in again, it's not for such a fierce kiss but to pay a bit closer attention to his lips, which are really quite exquisite now that she's noticed them; she wraps her own around the top one, then the bottom, taking her own turn at sucking lightly before pulling away once more.

She's into it, Petre. What now?]

[Needless to say he's quite into it, too. He built her up so much that it'd be to no one's surprise if she turned out to be absolutely mediocre and deemed a waste of his time. And he'd have absolutely no problem pushing his finger against her chest to mutter a 'no thank you' and finish that cigarette, but that thing is dropped down on the ground once she's done teasing his lips, attention diverted just long enough to put it out.

Now he's all hers.]

What made you come around?

It's not a terribly sexy reason, if that's why you want to know. You'd be better off getting me inside before I change my mind than talking about it.

[Because she is feeling sexy now. There's a strong urge to just yank him closer again and see what they can get up to right out here - a very strong one, actually, wouldn't that be a brilliant first way to get in trouble - but she wants to see what he'll do. He's built himself up quite a bit as well, so she's watching him carefully, curious to see what direction the great lothario takes: wild and crazy, or private and personalized?]

[Doesn't she know how beautifully it'd feed his ego, though? He'd talk about it all the way if there weren't obviously more pressing matters to attend to, and hey - Petre is no mind reader and quite content to do what he's told when it suits him this well. So his hand lowers down to take hers and he goes ahead and pulls her along to lead her to his room. If there's a roommate to deal with, he'll just have to kick him out accordingly.]

{She didn't really think "I want you to be cool again" would be an ego-feeder at all, which is why she keeps her mouth shut. He does run on ego, and she doesn't want it deflating now, not when she's actually along for this ride much more eagerly than she could've expected.

(Isn't it sweet that he takes her hand. Not dangerous-sweet, heartwarming-sweet, but a personal and uncharacteristic little gesture that actually does bode well for the kind of attention he'll show in the bedroom.)

Once they're safely shut away, she doesn't even spare a look for what kind of room Petre keeps - it's the kind of thing she'd look over with a cool, critical eye most of the time, but now she's focussed on him. She never got this far with Martin. It'll be her first time, at eighteen years old. He'd better have the sense not to laugh at her for that, or her legs will lock up like a bank vault again. She can play the game, though, so he needn't know immediately; her hands move to his hips, pulling him close again, and she tilts her head to speak against his mouth.]

You've got a lot to live up to, Petre Dodrescu, and it's all out of your own mouth. You really think you're up to it?

[Never mind stroking his ego - challenge him. That's how she thinks she'll get the best possible performance.]

[He doesn't quite make it to a laugh when his lips stretch and he grins against her, breathing softly with an amused] Please, [Before they resume kissing. Petre leads her to the bed while her hands are on him, climbing on top with her body beneath his, parting her legs to settle between them, contact of hips against hips in a slow but thorough roll.

Petre doesn't let go of the kiss as they grind, either unaware or non-preoccupied with her experience (or lack thereof), hand finally taking hold of her jawline so his mouth can move on to dot her chin, cheek, temple, ear, neck -]

You're not gonna chicken out on me, are you? I'm not in the mood for a cold shower right now.

[Everything he says just sounds like a joke. He isn't stopping.]

[Now that they're in the heat of it, his cockiness actually is quite a turn-on. The way he brushes off that challenge with utter confidence instead of the annoyance he's been showing lately makes her shiver, a pleasant feeling, and she's perfectly happy to be nudged backwards as their tongues and lips tangle again. She can barely keep her breath just from his kissing alone, deep and intense but still with a light sort of playfulness that always keeps her on edge.

Being pinned down like that sends a less pleasant thrill of nervousness through her, because she knows he doesn't have to stop if she does change her mind - but that's not how someone like this gets his reputation. If he went around forcing it on people, he'd be viewed much, much differently. It's just years spent under peoples' hands without her choice, needles poking her and scientists prodding wherever they felt like and straps tying her to machines that read her body's every output, that have made this uncomfortable. She's choosing this. It's hers.]

You know me better than that by now. [The weight of him grinding against her, rubbing right against where she's suddenly so sensitive and alive, has her gasping between words. She wants closer attention, layers peeled back until Petre can reach right where she needs that pressure, but all that will take is a bit more patience.] I don't chicken out of anything I've set my mind to.

[Her head rolls subtly from side to side, leaning into each soft kiss and exposing more skin where they seem to lead. Beautiful mouth. She wants it everywhere.]

[The pressure of his body is already growing tight against her, and he can only imagine what that bulge should feel like during someone's first time. Petre's own is practically a blur by now; he jumped into it so quickly and impulsively that it could never be memorable enough to talk about years later. It's certainly not something he regrets, though; it paved the way to a wave of promiscuity that has yet to slow down, as he so proudly keeps telling her.]

Good, [another kiss, tongue finally coming out to play with her skin, leave a wet and fresh trail behind that exposes her to the room's temperature.] Just making sure.

[With that his hand moves beneath her shirt, cupping her breath over the fabric of her bra, feeling and squeezing lightly in due time before he continues to peel it off her skin, over her head. His full attention goes to her chest, propped up by his hands, both beside her.]

[Yes, she can definitely feel his arousal now, so much harder than the rest of him and rubbing insistently between her legs as though searching for what it can't yet reach. It makes her throb, starting at that point of contact and reverberating through her whole body, like she's become a human heart pulsating with the rhythm of his movements. Each throb is deeper and more profound until it leaves being something much like an ache.

Ready or not, she needs this now, so she's going through with it no matter how it ends up feeling. All that talk about screaming, tearing pain is blown out of proportion anyway, she knows it must be. No one would ever get through their first time if it was that awful.]

Oh - [Her little gasp is just barely vocalized when Petre grasps her breast, making her start to writhe beneath him at that new point of pleasure; by the time she's exposed and he's got his mouth on her, the gasps have turned into needy whimpers, her dark nipples hard and stiff and her body shuddering with each curl of his tongue and brush of his lips. She grabs onto the hem of his shirt, starts to hitch it up - you too, Petre. She wants skin touching skin wherever it can.]

[The sounds exchanged between them grow more obscene as they move and take step after step; before long Petre's moaning against her whimpers and breathing hard between the wetness of his tongue and lips on her nipples, on her sensitive and soft skin. His back straightens to help the shirt off his back, now revealing a body that's still remarkably young and still growing into full adulthood, more on the skinny side than anything resembling muscle.

He takes the opportunity to start working on her trousers, to unbutton and slide them off her legs, letting every piece of wardrobe flop down on the floor. Only her panties are left now, and he's looking down at her body with something very close to devotion. He may be incapable of loving the person beneath the skin, but his appreciation for bodies - their shine, softness, color and texture - shows plainly on his own features, blue eyes dazed and lips swollen.

Petre tongues the inside of his cheek, runs his hands down her legs, curls his fingers into the waist of her panties, and leaves his lips on her navel. Planting kiss after kiss, preparing her for what comes next when they come off and his breath is hot on her most sensitive spot yet. It's his middle finger that traces gently over her slit.]

You're so wet. [He chuckles, voice lowered to half a whisper. Eying her face like he's trying to ascertain whether she's ready for what comes next.]

{She likes how he looks. Not muscular like Martin, but still lean, his skin a pretty pale colour that she'd like to put her lips on at some point. The attention's on her for now, though, and she's not shifting that for anything, not when he's staring at her equally slender and not all that shapely body as though she were some kind of goddess; the soft light in his usually incisive, icy eyes could become addictive if she saw it directed at her too often. There's more danger here than she initially realized, and the appeal has become so blatantly obvious now that she's in right at the deep end that she almost wants to laugh about how long she shoved him away.

She doesn't have time to think about any of it, though, beyond those initial impressions. Because then his mouth is low on her body, so low, and she did not expect this at all. Is this actually happening? Is it a tease? His very breath is a caress that leaves her both boneless and pulled taut with anticipation, so the actual touch - still not firm enough, still not deep enough - makes her arch up off the bed and let out a moan of complaint.]

Get on with it. [Her usual bored, dismissive words turned onto a desperate plea by the twisting upward arc of her voice. God, she needs, she needs so badly. If he stopped now, turned her away, she feels like she could actually sob with the frustration of it.]

[This is exactly what he looks for in every partner - the point where they've given themselves almost completely but Petre won't take them just yet. Celeste said no for so long that he wants to prolong this moment, make her squirm and beg properly, a resounding yes against her previous answers. Payback, as he'd call it, and the sweetest kind. All the power in his hands, in what he will or won't do.

With a trill of a laugh in his throat, Petre's lips find her skin, using just the tip of his tongue to trace wet lines on her hips, her inner thighs. His fingers work just enough over her clitoris before he's parting her properly and using his tongue, wide and sudden, to press against her warmth.]

[She's just one long, constant shiver as Petre licks at her skin, wave after wave of it, feeling his fingers tease at the epicentre of that throbbing heat and the hot slickness of his tongue but not together. Not how she needs them now that she knows it has to be coming. Her body shifting and, yes, very much squirming under the attention, she lets out an equally steady stream of whimpers and moans that still sound a lot like complaints.

But then he finally spreads her open and:]

Oh my god, ohhhh my god - [Not so much complaining as utterly helpless and lost now, moving instinctively upward to meet his tongue. She's touched herself more than enough times, and it's worked; he's touched her, and it's been good; his tongue touching her has just driven her right to the boiling point faster than she could've imagined possible.]

Right there, Petre, god, don't stop. [Her hands fist and unfist in the sheets before one goes for his hair, holding on tight. She might have to be prompted to beg rather than order, but she's definitely lost.]

[He knows exactly what she's feeling (it's a sort of twisted well of knowledge, his gender fluidity, no matter how ignorant he remains in less physical matters), and he knows because he's been in that same position, legs parted while someone's wet, hot tongue made everything so much warmer and slick, insides melting like chocolate beneath your skin. It's different, from woman to man. Both still give him that incomparable sense of power that he so often delights himself with.

It's a slow, thorough lick at first, lips gathering to kiss her lightly before using the tip of his tongue to press and release, circle and stroke. Following the erratic movements of her hips as she writhes, Petre's lips stretch for a light laugh, finger teasing at her entrance before pushing inside. She's wet enough so it shouldn't hurt too much - but that's him thinking she's gone further than that with the other man.]

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Boiling Point Kiss Meme

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