The sneakers of Gezza tore the shiny hard floor of the apartment of Mia, as the door banged shut in the silence of her darkened hallway.
Her vanilla-rose perfume, mixed just enough with a slight scent of coffee they had met in the cafe, was smouldering around him like a promise.
The blue eyes of Mia, flaming with the Playbook-inspired passion he felt, met him, and, before he could utter some ill-chosen word to relieve his nervousness, her lips came against his.
Their tongues were dancing, hot and clumsy, her taste a blend of sweet latte foam and spearmint gum.
Her waist was grabbed by Gezza, his fingers pierced the smooth curve of hips under her denim jacket where her skirt fit,
and his heart pumped like he had drunk three cups of espresso. The high school queen, Mia Larson, who had tagged him Greasy, was sucking his lip like a personal dessert.
"Oh, Gezza, you are trouble," she is breathing in his lips, and it is low and sultry and it is dripping with mischief.
Her body pressed against his and her crop top rubbed against his chest and the thin material barely concealed the heat of her body.
The magic of the Playbook was undisputed- she was not merely into him, but was insatiable, all due to the erotic imaginations which he had woven back at the coffee shop.
His thoughts flew to her sultry wanna get out of here. and his thigh brushed with an electric brush of her nails. The book was distorting her actuality, making his dirty fantasies hers.
He drew back puffing, his lips swollen by her fierceness. "Wait, let's go upstairs", he said, with a certain hope of being suave.
His heart gave a wail, half-willed to have her cackling as she had so often done.
Rather, she smiled a lecherous smile, grabbed his hand.
"You have to be able to handle me, hotshot", she flirted, her voice a velvet challenge as she ushered him up the staircase.
With every stride her skirt shifted with her thighs bending, and Gezza lost his train of thought, and his jeans were tearing as he followed her like a dog in search of a snack.
Her bedroom was a soft-focus fantasy pale pink walls, fairy lights made a starry light, plush rug sinking his sneakers.
Lavender flew on breezes of a burning candle, and joined her perfume, a heady mixture that swam his head.
Mia spun on her blonde hair that gleamed in the brightness, and Gezza did not hesitate.
He pulled her crop top off, the material snagged in her hair and then showed a black lacey bra.
His respiration caught--it was a goddess--and its lines shone in the little light compared with all the posters in his basement.
"Shit, Mia, you are unreal", he rasped, and his voice had been rough with awe, the pervert inside himself worshipping at her shrine.
"Sweet talker," she said, moving closer, her fingers following the hem of his hoodie, nails scratching with an erotic nip.
Her eyes were Playbook-hyper hungerous and he was beckoning him on.
Gezza fumbled with his hands as he unclipped her bra and it fell to the floor with a very faint rustle.
Her breasts were full, soft and pleading.
"Wow", His tongue circled in anticipation, sucking, sucking, he leaned forward, his tongue swirling like some kind of porn star he had ever seen.
"Fuck-", Mia made a throaty gasp, which shivered in him, her fingers twining in his greasy hair, pulling him nearer.
Her skin smelled slightly of salt and roses and his body became daring being influence by magic, each caress a shock of unnatural aggressiveness.
"You are too good at it", she said, with a breathing voice, biting a lip, arching into him.
"Hiding some skills, huh, Gezza?" His scalp was scratched with her nails and he grinned against her skin and shuddered down his spine.
I am just beginning, he said to himself trying to imitate the swagger of the studs of his late-night video recordings.
He kissed up her neck, where he could feel the pulse beat under his lips, and then took her mouth in the kiss once more, and their tongues pulled and danced together in a disheartened kind of way.
His hands crept down, unzipping her skirt, and it fell to the ground in heaps. She was in lacy panties and her body was glowing, her face was flusty, a sight that pained his length begging to be freed.
Gezza dropped fingers under the lace, and fumbled with the awkward elegance of years of incognito tabs.
He stroked her at first, then faster, as he felt her warmness, and his finger moved deeper in her, moaning her nail racked his back,
Slowly he rubbed her swollen clit. She hissed in more gasps, her hips jerking against his hand, and muttered, Fuck, Gezza, keep—Ahhh She cut herself off and with a scream...
He applied more pressure, Her body jerked, Her legs twitched as she cried out, and her legs were slick with cum.
Her voice was crude, begging, not at all the Mia who had laughed him out of prom. The Playbook was transforming her, making her out what he fantasized and he was intoxicated by it.
She sank to her knees, to get her breath,
before hands tugging at his jeans, and setting his erection free in a jerk.
Her breath came in and her fingers closed him, and her stroke with fingers made his knees shake. She stroked his length, his warmth increases, as he gasped. God.
She licked the pre-cum on his cap, then lips swallowed him, warm and sticky as they were, her tongue closing in circles, making him blind.
The room had been erased--the lavender mist, the plushness of the carpet, the twinkle of the fairy lights--swamped in the dampness of her lips and his own groan of roughness.
That made his mind go back to high school and how Mia had given him a cutting smirk when she called him Greasy at the cafeteria and how his friends had laughed and cut him in half. It was that same mouth to-day venerating him, and the vengeance was sweeter than the enjoyment.
"Bet you didn't think this", he grumbled with a voice well-choked, and his hands clinging to her hair.
She withdrew a little way, to give a witty grin as her lips glowed. "Less talking.... more enjoying," she coquetted as she sank down into him, and dragged him away.
The head of Gezza was thrown back in pleasure like a spring, "Am Cumming", and he could not resist--he drove himself to the very bottom of her throat, a savage desire that the Playbook had caused.
Mia Stumbled back choked, then out, his discharge pouring down her lips and dripping down her chin on the carpet.
She wiped her mouth, her eyes still on him, and in a low, rather playful voice, she laughed, "You liked that, Gezza, right?"
His heart sank, his body ached with victory. Hell yeah, I did.
It was his Playbook that had the girl who had broken his ego on her knees.
He picked her up, and her body light and burning in his arm, her legs round his, her breath hot to his neck.
She was prepared to do more, the unnatural desire in her eyes.
However, on his way to the bed, carrying her, a certain coolness stung his skin, and the words of the book were ringing in his thoughts: The Playbook takes.