Bite Me, and I Will Bite Back

MentalDessert
Jul 25, 2017 · 7 min read

I sit in a car steadily climbing up a parking garage. Hip hop music plays in the background and I bob my head to it. We’re in a well loved car, reminiscent of my own. The man sitting in the passenger seat is a fun little mystery I like to unravel. The first time I met him he piqued my curiosity, but it was our second meeting where he blew my mind.

We were in a parking lot talking after another Mixer we went to together. And he psychologically accessed me in a way that made me question everything. He also insisted I wanted to kiss him, which I walked away from him and then toward him.

“You’re shutting down now. I hit something you don’t want to admit, so you shut yourself down and walked away to avoid it.”

My mouth fell open slightly. I can throw people off their game but he was spot on that night. I informed him I don’t do relationships so the kissing thing is not happening.

A secretive smirk spreads on my face and I try to suppress it. This man and I have always had that continuing thing about parking lots and garages. Where he keeps trying to figure out the buttons to push with me.

I look at him in his sleeveless shirt. I make a shooing motion with my hand at the fabric covering his body. An eyebrow raises on his face and he tilts his head.

“So, you should take your shirt off.”

“Oh, really?” he replies with a growing smile.

“Yeah, definitely, it’s a thing. I don’t understand why you put it back on after we finished with kayaking.”

He doesn’t respond to my remark and let’s out a good natured chuckle. More pulls his shirt off and tosses it under his feet. My eyes admire the human structure, the fine network of muscles before me.

He has an inch or two under me and a ridiculously young face, like he’s twenty instead of a year ahead of what I am. I position myself facing him and give him a motion with my hand. This is what we do, I give him random massages. His arm is plopped into my open palm and I feel the smooth skin.

My gaze traces the tattoos adorning his skin. The favorite of mine is a red star tattoo that I desperately want to bite. So badly, my mind whispers as I bite my lip.

I’ve memorized his tattoos since the first time I demanded he take his shirt off. It’s a thing I do that I like him shirtless and he seems to always comply with my request. I know it’s a tell I give him, that he’s something I am highly attracted to.

It isn’t just the body, but the fun, unpredictable, adrenaline junkie person under that skin. He never stops moving, and is a person who randomly starts dancing just because. I’m the same person, except he’s trained in the craft and my heart just exudes music.

My fingers friction a muscle in the forearm. His breath sucks in and a tiny smile grows on my face. He’s just like me in the fact that he’ll never say Uncle even if his body is screaming for him to. I am tempted to increase the pressure but lighten it slightly.

“You alright? Need less?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

He responds with a well controlled grimace. I laugh and continue my work. My hands work into some of my favorite areas on him. The attachment site for the pec always gets him to almost eye roll from the intensity of it. I keep it just bodywork as I work into different areas. I’m subconsciously aware of being turned on.

My teeth bite into my lip occasionally and I breathe at a steady pace to control my own reactions. A car passes us on the roof of the parking garage. I can see his attention shifting to the people.

“Hmmm, time to move, just in case.”

“Probably not a bad idea, since I always cause trouble with authority.”

“Hey, you’ll get off, they’ll get me since …come on.”

He gestures at the differing color of our skin. I spin my hand in circles and run my hand through my hair.

“I can imagine your friends being like how the hell did this happen? But don’t worry I won’t let them take you in, I’ll take the blame.”

I say with a good natured tap on his shoulder. He chuckles to himself and shakes his head.

The car shifts in gear and I move back into my seat. It’s rather easy reading him, but difficult at other times. He’s commonly distracted by random stimuli around him. I can sense his mind being pulled in a thousand directions at once.

If we’re bowling together the lane next to us being occupied will throw him off his game. Their talking, the noise of pins crashing, or conversations within a restaurant. While I am aware of everything happening around me, I tend to turn off my reactions. It’s like I’m looking through a pinhole constantly while he sees the whole world, always.

We park again and he gets this look on his face. He’s still shirtless and I want so badly to play with him. I decide to act on it and I balance on the car seat with a pounce worthy look.

“Oh, what is going on in that brain of yours?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Well, yeah I want to know. That’s why I’m asking,” he laughs.

I enjoy his laughter and light hearted way of being. He’s someone that avoids intense conversations or philosophical observations. I have a lot of friends who I look to for this and they are amazing. But what he is causes me to be playful in a way that isn’t uncommon, but that not many see. He’s the only one currently where I will unabashedly try to fight him in a car like a wild wrestler.

I come at him full strength, hoping to use my equal body weight and my height advantage against him. He uses my momentum against me immediately as if he knew I’d do this. Somehow he takes me and flips me onto my back upside down. His hands lock down on my wrists and I’m underneath the steering wheel staring up at him.

“That didn’t quite work for you, did it?”

I growl and wildly kick my legs. My whole body convulses and bucks against him. He holds me firmly by my wrists and I become still.

Holy shit. He seriously has me this time, my eyes widen with this realization.

“You use too much momentum and energy. I use it against you and you do know what I’ve always told you?”

“Fuck you so hard with a stick I can get out of this.”

“No, that’s not what I say. You only get out when I let you out. Now… what am I going to do with you in this position? You can’t fight back,” he says.

He observes my form with a look that sets my skin on fire. I know we’re both attracted to each other but we’ve only played the game of poke the bear. The bear being me since I have my weird annoyances with touch.

I love it, yet I hate it intensely if someone meets me and starts touching me repeatedly. I can and will hit someone if they keep it up.

I bare my teeth at him like a feral animal. My head turns and I try to bite the hand holding my wrist. He pulls it away from my mouth just in time and his body rumbles with laughter.

“What have I told you? You bite me, and I bite back.”

“What if that’s the point?” I say.

I immediately chastise myself as I realize I’ve given yet another tell. His eyes take on a curious look and I fight him again. My teeth barely scrape his arm and they miss their mark again.

His lips are on my ear and I squeal. I feel his teeth bite into my ear lobe gently. My body wants desperately to release a moan. My eyes shut tightly and I fight him the hardest yet. His breath enters my ear and my body arches.

A tongue traces the shape of my outside ear and enters inside. My eyes roll back into my head and I gasp. My feet kick out so hard that they hit the dashboard and I struggle again. His headphones go flying and this distracts him from his attack.

“Hmmm, that was interesting.”

“You bit me.”

“That I did, I was going to let you out but I’ve changed my mind. Are you going to calm down? I’m not letting you out until you accept that I’m the only one who can get you out of this.”

There’s a part of me that is exhausted and I feel oddly comfortable in this position. My head starts to slide into sub space where I haven’t been in so many years I can’t remember. There has never been a man that has held me, this strongly, in a position like this.

It’s a first and I love and hate it at the same time. I hate how he reminds me that he’s stronger than me. Yet, I love it because he’s one of the few that can physically subdue me and that’s fuck all exciting.

I calm and still in the odd position. My legs are straight out and I lie in his lap in the car. A smile forms on his face as I finally submit to him.

“You want out of this now?”

Real answer? No. But, I force myself to nod my head not trusting myself to speak. If I speak then I might give away how much I like what we’re doing.

He loosens his grip and I jump out of it. My head shakes my shoulder length brown hair. I let out a growl and narrow my eyes at him. He throws his hands up in mock surprise.

“You said if I bite then you bite back. I never even bit you, I came close. That means you get bitten by me.”

“Alright, well then bite away.”

There’s this adorable, boyish smirk on his face. I wonder what exactly I got myself into this time with our arrangement we just made.


You made it to the bottom… yay. If you dig this, ❤️️ it! Please and cupcakes. (Or… that’s what they tell me to do at least.)

MentalDessert

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I'm unapologetically me with a hard edged view of life. I love to travel and have crazy amounts of fun spaced between quiet moments.

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