The sky was an ominous sheet of gray, stretching from one corner to the other of the bedroom window of the suburban New York apartment. Dusty old brick coated the walls of the infinitely small space. Cream colored sheets fell carelessly from the edges of a king sized bed nearly the width of the room; pillows lay propped against the wall, their backs covered in a gray chalk-like film. One lonely blade hung from the ceiling, spinning around two dim light bulbs that had been there for ages. In the center of the room, sprawled on the bed, lay a young girl lazily staring at the sorry excuse for a fan. Her blue-gray eyes followed the lone blade, as if in a trance; one finger ran through her thick chestnut hair, gently stroking the soft curls spread across the sheets.
A quiet, distant clicking noise slowly roused her from her dream-like state; she could hear padded footsteps coming from just down the hall. Quickly sitting up, she scurried backward towards the pillows, arching her back just so to flaunt her rounded breasts, and placing her hands behind her hips for support. It was a matter of seconds before a hand crept around the hanging curtain that separated the bedroom from the rest of the apartment. In stepped a tall, muscular man whose deep brown hair and slightly tanned skin reminded her of power; here was a man who could one day rule the world, she thought. For a second, she caught his eye: so much depth, so much strength lay in those two hazel orbs, she almost couldn't tear herself away. Slowly, he made his way toward her; with every small step he took, she became so much more aware of herself; how her black corset gently pushed on her bosom, how her fishnet stockings crept up her legs, ending half way up her fine-toned thighs, how badly her full, rosy lips craved the warmth and touch of his own; how his bare, refined abs pillowed out gently from his stomach, how his sleek black pajama pants seemed to lengthen his strong legs, and how they accented the strangely graceful bulge protruding from his lower torso. God, he was gorgeous.
She crept over to the side of the bed where he now stood, crawling on all fours until she was just at the edge. Sitting on her heels, she glanced upward at his face; her want to kiss him nearly drove her insane, the stubble lining his soft cheeks and his curling smile making her dizzy with lust. Finding the approval she sought, she lifted her delicately manicured hands to his sides, looping her slender fingers over the edge of his pants. They slid down like silk, revealing a shave so thorough and so smooth, she almost felt like she was back in that southern downtown apartment, finding herself wrapped up in his bare arms, under the cool breeze of a real ceiling fan; oh how she wished to be back home, but she knew that this was how life would be, rough like the brick walls that surrounded them, impure like the dust coating their dirty little secret. Licking her lips, she reached for him, taking him gently in her hand and wrapping her fingers around in a firm grip. He was already as hard as a broom stick, and certainly as soft as one, too. Smooth, like the way he made her feel when he kissed her nose on those lonely days, reminding her that she was loved, forever and for always, amen. She lowered her mouth down to a comfortable level, slowly kissing up and down the shaft, savoring the texture of his warm, cozy skin.
