I don't really know where we're going or what we're doing until I'm stumbling forward, catching my hands on the bed on either side of her. I'm half afraid I'll put too much weight on her and this close to laughing anyway, a giddy mixture of relief and hysterics, the thought that we're actually on a bed hysterically funny in a way that isn't at all. Any sound I might make gets stifled anyway, swallowed up by her kiss.

My hips rock automatically against hers, desperate for something, anything. "Fuck," I groan against her mouth, startled by my own breathless voice, but her hands are on me and she's practically naked and kissing her isn't enough. I pull away to kiss down over all that bare skin, a hand moving over the curve of her waist, her hip, just to touch her. She's soft and warm and perfect and my head is spinning with it as I suck at her nipple, forgetting again to be careful or try to slow down. It's a hopeless cause anyway and I'm past caring.