I finished inside her and laid on top for a minute. She smiled and I smiled and we both started giggling. I pulled out and we rolled around the bed, entangled in damp sheets as we continued to kiss. My sweat intermingled with hers and our flush faces pressed against each other still. The urge to say something grandiose and sweeping and magnificent just like in the movies hit me, as it always does when I sleep with a girl and it's more than just sex and you're both in bed and naked and not at all wanting to back away. I bit my tongue though and I just smiled.
She volleyed first:
"Well this might complicate things."
"I don't think you're ready for something like this."
"Probably not" I replied as we started kissing again. She leaned back and through giggles, managed to break out a serious question.
"When will you be ready?"
"I don't know."
I've had this conversation more than a few times before, and it's like any other interrogation. The less you say, the better. She reads this blog though, so the whole "saying less" thing goes straight out the window. I don't feel the need to hide anything.
I'm too out of control right now. I'm fairly sure the only girl for me, at this moment, will have to be a complete lunatic also. And that's okay.
It's exciting to think about how much I still have to experience down the road.