<div class="floatleft">(https://pmcdeadline2.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/starr__120312180756.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Alexander Fourche<br/><strong>Specific Location:</strong>Kismet's Bedroom<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Jeans, Polo Shirt, Comfortable Running Shoes, Fourche Sporting Goods Ballcap<br/><strong>Content Warning:</strong>Ohhhhh yeah<br/><br/>Every fiber of his being screamed at him to flee the bedroom, take his shower, and prepare for the party. All he has to do is turn around, put one foot in front of the other, and flee. It seems so simple in theory yet he finds himself hypnotized by the way she is looking at him. Not out of lust but familiarity. She has the same seductive look her mother used to give when she wanted something.<br/><br/>"Well we can't be late Kizzy that would just be rude." He says as he stops in his tracks and closes the bedroom door before approaching her. The inner monologue in his head screamed at him in stereo. Chastising him for even entertaining such a taboo offering, but there was little turning back now. They had never been intimate before, nor had either of them ever offered such a delicacy to the other. Now that's on the table he simply cannot back away. He crawls next to her in bed, and lets his hand explore her body as he gives her a kiss. One that builds from slow and passionate to hungry and wanting in a few seconds time.<br/><br/>