just minishorts.

You would think making out is all about hearing the girl moan. It sounds a bit like 'Urhhh…'

I moan a lot lah, I know, I'll admit my shortcomings. Even Mark said I'm a horrid one, when it comes to moaning. I go very very very loud.

At least, it turns him on. Or at least, the look on his face makes me imagine that it turns him on.

But on Day Two, because I was wearing a fucking tight corset with many many hooks, poor Mark had to settle with the under-the-skirt explorations.

At least, I wasn't wearing anything under. He realized it after a bit.

'You don't wear anything under ah?'
'Urhh…'
'Nice cheeks.'
'Urhhh…'
'Can I pinch you?'
'Urrhhh…. urhhh… OUCH!'

We stopped for a while. It hurt! Okay?! I have a very low pain tolerance. Not when it comes to THAT part of my body. Then we stared at each other and laughed.

'Do you always moan so much when you make out with someone?' he asked. I blushed.

'I have never made out with anyone in my entire life.'
'Nooooo…'
'Serious.'
'And yet you let me, do this to you?'
'You don't know.'
'Oh Rappy, can I call you that?'

I thought the name sounded hideously kinky, so 'Yes, yes… urh…'

'I don't know what I did to deserve this.' And then with a rough sigh he leaned over me and muffled me again. Hands still moving, of course.

We didn't talk thereafter. You know… the likes of what we did. The rolling in the bed. The covers sliding everywhere. The moaning, the moaning, the moaning. Actually, my moaning. At one point, I went, 'Ahhh ahhhh ahhh…'

And then suddenly there was a blackout. A huge, big, flat piece of godknowswhat (later I found out it was a pillow) came flying out of nowhere and fell with a loud slap over my face.

I gagged and shoved the pillow downwards.

'WHOI… what was that for?'
'YOU… the coconut trees have ears… you scream too loudly! And all I'm doing is stroking your thighs.'
'I've never been touched mah.'

Giggles. And then an evil look seemed to veil his entire expression. Not that it was a bad thing.

He asked me, suddenly, 'You see before or not?'

'See what?'
'Nice things. I mean. Thing.'
'What nice thing?'
'You know? You got abalone…'
'I got abalone?'
'Yeah… I like your abalone.'

I squirmed. Oooh… this. I like. 'My abalone.' Giggles.

'I have a joystick too.'
'Joystick?'
'Yeah like how you have bumps on your joypad. Pads…'

Giggles.

'… though they're imprisoned under your goddamn corset for now,' he said, looking really frustrated. 'But maybe you'd like to see a joystick.'

'I've never seen a joystick in my entire life before. As in, not a real one.'

In my mind, I'd imagined it to be damn long, damn big, damn damn big. Somewhat like the length of half my arm at least. You know, all those Mills & Boons classics, they can get to you, spike your imagination and make the racy images in your mental cinema screen go zooming faster than a Star Wars podracer.

So when Mark guided my fingers to the little rail track down his you-know-what, I was very very intrigued, and very, very excited. In a zippy, his pants flew off the bed (I threw them off with a light flex, and the trousers landed over the window pane.. hehe).

When I saw it.

It was not very big.

Not very small also.

I would say it was JUST NICE.

But.

At first sight, I started to laugh like a possessed hyena.

I went like. Hahahah.

Hahahahaha.
Hahahahaha.
Hahahahaha.

No. Serious. Really. I laughed. I don't know what got into me. I stared at the twanger and I laughed and laughed and laughed.

Mark's reaction. Well, the expression on his face was priceless. I looked at him, and laughed some more. He shrivelled up. The sight of it shrivelling up made me laugh again.

'What's wrong?' His voice was gruff. Which made things worse.

He scrambled back, stared at me and waited for me to get tired of the laugh attack.

When, finally, I calmed down, panting, he asked again. 'What's wrong?'
'Nothing.'
'Something's wrong.'
'NOTHING…'
'Is something wrong with my dick?' His voice was now shrilling and I felt the urge to burst out laughing again.

I didn't lah. Of course. 'No no no…'

'Too small izzit?'
'No!' Serious. It wasn't that. It was, just. '… I've just never see one in my life.'

He stared at me, disbelieving. His eyebrows were cocked up. Correction, just ONE eyebrow cocked up. Yeah, Mark can do that. That's one of the nicest things about him. A single cocked up eyebrow. 'So you have to laugh?'

'Hehe…' wasn't easy to suppress this giggle, but I forced it down. 'Well, better to laugh, then to cry, right?'
'Hrmph…'
'Awwww… Marky Boy… come come…'

It doesn't take much for a half naked girl to make a half naked guy come alive again. Really.

Previously on Rapunzel Speaks:
RS 1: My name and how I came to be
RS 2: That famous long hair of mine
RS 3: About the silk rope
RS 4: Why Mark
RS 5: Mark and what happened on Day Two