Personal space was something she obviously had no concept of.
Or, perhaps more likely, she saw my desire for personal space and delighted in invading it. I wondered if standing too close, hugging me and even trying to kiss my cheek were all part of some twisted game of hers, the aim of which was clearly to try and make me squirm in her presence. I knew for a certainty that it was nothing more than that; her interests lay in a completely different direction. The sole purpose was making me feel uncomfortable.
Needless to say, it was a game I didn't particularly enjoy.
I stood in the corridor one evening, listening to a conversation between two friends, arms folded across my chest, when she rounded the corner. She called my name loudly when she saw me, unable to mask the mirth from in her voice as she stretched out her arms to try and trap me once more in one of her dreaded hugs. I sneered and backed away, only to find my escape route blocked by the two talking friends. She caught me, wrapping her arms around and squeezing far too tight for comfort. I squirmed.
She leaned back to look at me, and I scowled as fiercely as I could manage. She laughed and asked in her silly, cheery, girly voice, "Did that make you feel violated?"
"A little," I growled in return. She laughed again as she let go, eyes sparkling with mischief, and I sensed she had claimed another victory. I was outraged. I considered her for a few moments, eyes narrowed, before suddenly reaching a decision. Perhaps the way to win her stupid game wasn't to not play along, but to beat her at it. I seized her by her upper arms and shoved her back against the opposite wall, the length of my body crashing against hers. I seized her mouth before she could voice her surprise, my tongue forcing through her lips. I plundered her mouth in a few angry sweeps, trying not to taste her.
She raised her arms to try and push me away, but I merely released her biceps and grabbed her wrists instead, immobilising her against the wall. I was stronger than her, and she knew it. I maintained my vice-like grip even after she stopped struggling, determined to show her that I was in control now... that I was winning.
"I'll give you violated," I thought to myself. I nudged her legs apart with one of my own, pressed a thigh into the gap and pushed, my whole body up moving against hers. I ignored the shudder than ran through her and the sensation of her heartbeat pounding through her chest into mine, withdrawing from her mouth and biting her lower lip, hard. She made a noise then, finally, a shocked little whimper as sharp teeth pinched soft skin. I wasn't gentle, stopping just short of actually drawing blood. I shifted my thigh again, causing another shudder.
I forced my way back into her mouth again, eliciting a second bout of struggling from her arms, but I held her firm. It wasnt a kiss, far from it. A kiss was affectionate and sensual, and those were the last things I wanted to be. This was punishment. I was punishing her; I was raping her mouth with my tongue. Abruptly, I withdrew and stared into her face, and I was pleased to see genuine fear in her eyes. I smirked as another idea came to my mind, and when I pushed against her again it wasnt her mouth I sought, but her neck. I bit and sucked the pale flesh, determined to leave a mark, my mark, on her. She whimpered again, squirming.
Satisfied, I pulled away, releasing both neck and wrists and leaving her to sag against the wall. One hand shakily rose to touch the red mark on her neck as she tried to get her breath back. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, trying to purge the taste of her from me. Our audience in the corridor stood with eyes wide and jaws agape, stunned. I let the silence build for a few minutes as they all watched me.
"Two can play that game," I told her finally, as I took my car keys from my pocket and turned to leave. As I walked away, I muttered to myself. "Checkmate."
