This is my first fluff story ever. My first lemon.

So be good. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

Major thanks to Sarah for moral support and help editing (aka, she re-edited it for me). This totally wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her.

Tada.


I was at Jesse's apartment.

It was an unusual summer afternoon, when neither of us had to work, and we had plenty of time before classes.

So in the morning, I had woken up, taken my usual morning shower, and when I saw that Marie, my roommate, had company – in the form of a tall blonde girl in a robe looking at our fridge -, I took off to Jesse's. I didn't mean to interrupt or anything.

He was already awake. I hadn't called, so he was wearing just some old jeans – his first pair of jeans, actually – when he answered to the door. His doorman knows me, so I have free access to his apartment. All I need now is a key.

Not that I'd ask or anything. I was waiting for his offer.

But his roommate's girlfriend, Anna, has a key. Which made me kind of jealous. She can get into my boyfriend's apartment whenever she wants to.

Okay, like she wasn't crazy about Lucas.

"Hi, Jesse," I said, pecking him on the lips. "You were awake, good."

"Susannah," he looked surprised but opened the door to let me in, "what are you doing here so early?" It wasn't that early. 10 am. Yeah, I knew what he meant. When I didn't have to, it was hard to find me up before 11.

"Marie had someone over. She may want the place to herself," I explained. "And I thought you wouldn't mind company, with Lucas out of town." I smiled at him, placing my purse on the table.

"Of course not. You want to do something? Watch a movie, maybe?" He looked around the place uneasily…it was pretty much a mess. The cleaning lady comes every two weeks, and in between, the guys manage to keep it relatively tidy, but she was coming the next day – and the last days are always the worse.

"I stopped by the store on my way over," I told him. "I got us The Butterfly Effect. It's great."

"Okay. Do you want to see it now?" he asked.

"Don't know. Do you?" I asked back.

He chuckled lightly.

"I still need to take a shower. Do you mind if I leave you here for a moment?"

"Give me the remote and I'll be fine." I lowered myself onto the couch and pushed a T-shirt onto the closest chair. I didn't mind the mess. My apartment was much worse.

I watched part of an episode of Full House before he came back, looking hot as always in a T-shirt and the jeans I helped him pick.

Help meaning I picked, he paid.

I think jeans are the most important item of clothing in anyone's wardrobe. That's why Jesse has like, 6 now.

He sat by my side, passing his arm around me and bringing me close to him. And then he kissed me. God, it's so good when he kisses me. It'll never change. Like when I feel his heartbeat. Could it be any more perfect? He pulled back a little.

"Good morning, querida. What is this movie about?"

I didn't tell him, out of fear of ruining the whole movie. In the end, I finally reached a conclusion about The Butterfly Effect.

Ashton Kutcher looks way better with short hair and no facial hair!

Still, not half as good as the guy I had by my side, who happened to be holding me very close and protectively.

And was now kissing me.

He brushed the hair out of my eyes and got up. "Hungry?" I realized I hadn't had breakfast that morning.

"Starving," I admitted. I lay down on the couch and stretched my arms over my head. God, it all felt so good. "You didn't tell me what you thought about the movie!" I complained as he tried to make the living room look a bit better.

"Very… interesting. Especially that déjà vu part at the end."

"Wait, that's the cutest scene! The 'stop crying your heart out' scene!" I protested. Jesse doesn't seem to like Ashton Kutcher. I made him watch Punk'd once, and he made some celebrity cry while he was laughing his ass off in the van. Jesse said that attitude was disgusting and turned off the TV. And started kissing me.

Ooh, that was a good day.

"None of this movie seemed… real." I was going to say, yes, of course it doesn't seem real, it's a movie. But I didn't.

Instead, I got up, placed the pillow back on the couch and asked, "microwave or take-out?" Meaning our lunch. There's always left-over in Jesse's fridge, because his roommate Lucas doesn't like Chinese, neither does his girlfriend. And every time I spend the night, we order food.

Yes, you heard it right. Spend the night.

It took a while… but in the end, I got him to drop part of his 1800's manners.

And let me tell you, all the effort was worth it. Making love to Jesse is one of the most marvelous things I've ever tried in my life. The first one is, of course, loving him.

"There's still left-over from the other day when you came. Chinese. But if you want, we can order – but you don't seem like you want to wait." I laughed.

"Yeah, I don't." I got the boxes from the fridge – somehow, we always order too much food, so we have a lot of left-over. There was a closed box of yakisoba and some other stuff. I took 3 boxes and placed them in the microwave. "Ready in 1 minute and 50 seconds."

I walked over him and wrapped my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his hair. It felt so good to be close to him… He brought his head down so his lips met mine and I soon opened them – my lips, that it – allowing his tongue to come in.

His hands were on my lower back, holding me and pulling me as close to him as I could be. One of my hands went to his chest, feeling up those muscles I knew well, but I couldn't get enough of. I broke the kiss to breathe, and suddenly he was kissing my collarbone, making me feel the most incredible feelings.

I wanted him… I wanted him right at that second.

I moaned loudly into his skin, and when I paused to catch my breath, I heard the distant beeping of the microwave.

Yes, Jesse's microwave was like a freaking alarm clock. It kept beeping until you a) turn it off or b) hit it.

Hitting it is, of course, the best alternative. Jesse never seemed to think the same, until that day. The noise started getting louder – it was not only an alarm clock, but also one of those really annoying alarm clocks.

Jesse let go of me – looking like that was the last thing in the world he wanted to do – and opened the microwave. It stopped beeping. Finally. I stood there, by the counter, while he removed got the boxes out and got two glasses of coke. Normal for him, diet for me.

Diet coke really does taste better than the normal one.

"Ah, I don't feel like eating right now…" I said, meaning I wanted us to go back to our… previous activity. Eh.

"Susannah, you said you're starving. You need to eat. I bet you didn't have breakfast, right?" He accused, looking me in the eye, seriously. Well, as serious as he could look, panting the way he was.

"Okay," I reluctantly agreed, grabbing a box and walking over to the kitchen table. Jesse's place is pretty small, so it took me less than two steps. But it's really cozy, too! Particularly on cleaning day. And Jesse's there, I don't need anything else.

He sat down in front of me and started eating. He used normal fork and knife, while I ate with my hashi. I couldn't focus on eating though, because he kept looking at me and making me giggle.

Yes, giggle.

After 20 minutes of that, I could it take it anymore, so I got up, placed the box back in the fridge and said, "I'm not hungry anymore."

Then I kissed him.

The fact I had just eaten didn't even cross my mind. Oh, I bet I tasted like chewed chinese food. I didn't care.

His food was left half-eaten by the table as he guided me to the couch, not breaking the contact. That's how I ended up under him, breathing really hard, but loving it.

It felt so hot… It was, after all, a summer afternoon.

Nice excuse.

He didn't seem to mind when I tried to take off his shirt. In fact, he raised his arms to get it off. I didn't make much difference, because even when it was on, my hands were already under it. Jesse's chest was so wonderful. Every inch of it… I ran the palm of my hands over his stomach, trying to memorize the way his skin felt so soft and yet, his muscles were so hard.

I felt his hand making its way to my bra, under my tank top. I had worn the front-closing one, to make things… easier, in case… well, in this case. He opened it and practically ripped the tank off me. I felt so desired.

I didn't even notice when my bra came off. I just felt his hand on my breast, caressing it, while he muttered soft Spanish into the skin of my neck.

I never wanted it to end. Nothing could possibly be as good as this feeling.

He got up, took me in his arms and carried me to the bedroom. I had forgotten that we were in the middle of the living room. You never know when his roommate would come back.

He placed me in the bed, carefully, and locked the door.

Then he went back to bed, kissing my hair softly. He leaned over me, and I turned him over to my side. Then I climbed on top of him.

It's a nice view, is all I can say.

His olive skin, his killer abs, his perfect chest, the most beautiful eyes ever… He got me completely drunk, I swear.

I kissed him fervently, and my hands somehow – they did it completely by themselves! – found his happy trail. And started unbuttoning his jeans.

Jesse was happy. Yes, he was very happy.

He closed his eyes in pleasure as I brushed against him. I loved making him feel that way. That was me! I was the one giving him all that pleasure. His hands held my hips close to him.

I unzipped and started pulling the jeans off his long, strong legs and threw them in the floor. Oh, who cares anyway!

He undid my miniskirt and took it off, leaving just my boy shorts and his boxers between us. He turned me, and now he was the one on top. His head came down to kiss my neck and I breathed into his – feeling that delicious Jesse-smell, of something spicy and sweet. There's just no way to describe it.

There's no way to describe him.

Kissing him on the cheek, I pulled down his boxers. I couldn't stand to have anything between us anymore. I needed it to be just us – bodies and souls. And I needed them to become one.

His hands got the shorts off me, and soon he was positioned right at my entrance. I kissed him again and he was inside – and if what I was feeling before was bliss, this was like heaven. If I had any capacity to think at that moment, I would have told myself that this was it. Life doesn't get better than this.

It was better than any word in any language could possible explain. Well, in English and French, at least. But I'm pretty sure what I felt cannot be described.

And then there were waves of pleasure washing through me, and I grabbed his shoulders, scratching them – otherwise, I'd lose control. I was right on the edge.

I felt him exploding inside of me, as he muttered ardent Spanish deeply into my hair. He rolled over to my side, always worried about not crushing me, and I placed my head on his chest.

"Te amo, querida."

"I love you, Jesse."


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