Alright, I have gotten lots of requests to write more, and inspiration just happened to strike me. This is another true story; I embellished this very little if at all. Brian and I had a friends-with-benefits thing going for about 5 months, and this story happened in the middle of that time period. I hope you enjoy it. Please send feedback!
They don't mess around with security here in my building. It's a college residence hall, so they make sure they have as many locked doors between you and the rest of the world as they can manage. You've got the outside perimeter door, separate locked doors leading to the dormitory hallways, and of course the automatically locked door to your own room. All in all, it's a secure building. But I guess if you want something bad enough, you can find a way to get it. So that's where Brian comes in... literally.
I heard a knock on my door around 3am, and rolled over unhappily in my bed. I groaned to myself, wondering who could possibly be bothering me at such an ungodly hour during my busy week. I mentally tuned out the sound for a moment until I heard the knock again. I sighed heavily, not wanting to leave the warm comfort of my bed. Rolling my eyes in distress, I threw back my blankets and headed for the door.
Upon opening it, I saw that there was no one there, however. I glared into the bright light of the hallway, and the look of annoyance on my face had to be unmistakable. I began to close the door when Brian came around the corner and up to my door frame. 'I look like shit,' I thought to myself. I was in my pajamas, my hair was askew, and no doubt I had dark circles under my eyes—ironically due to lack of sleep.
"Hey," I greeted him, trying to sound cheerful to see him. "What are you—"
"Oh, it's bright," he apologized as he let himself into my room and began to close the door behind him. "Here, here, this'll be better. I'm sorry about that."
"No, it's okay. Are you okay?" I'm not going to lie; I wasn't entirely concerned for his health, given that he reeked of alcohol. Clearly he had stumbled over to my building after the bars closed.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered. It was at this point that he reached out for me and I realized he was soaked from head to toe.
"You're soaked," I exclaimed in a whisper.
"Yeah, it just started storming, and I didn't want to walk all the way back to my apartment," he said. "Plus, I just wanted to stop by to see you."
Okay, so I had to smile at that. I brought my hand up to his cheek and smiled up at him. "How did you get in here? Did someone let you in?"
"Yeah, I have a key," he said. I frowned. "Okay, it's a pocket knife. But it works the same." He grinned mischievously, and my jaw dropped.
"You're crazy!" I giggled and watched as he took off his soaked shoes and began to unbuckle his pants.
"I'm so sorry I woke you," he said. "Here, go climb back into bed and I'll take off these wet clothes and come join you."
Sure, it was one of those moments where my brain worked overtime to stop me from doing this, only to be muffled by my body screaming the opposite. I hesitated, but that was all I could manage. I climbed back into my warm bed and couldn't help but realize that there was heat in my cheeks and my body seemed more awake than it should have been at that hour.
Brian climbed into bed with me wearing only his boxers and a white t-shirt, which was dry because he had been wearing layers. He was cold and damp, and I couldn't help but wrap my arms around him in an effort to warm him up. His hands immediately found their way underneath my tank top, and I squirmed because they were frozen against my skin.
"You're so cold," I whispered close to his ear because I knew he loved my breath on his skin. I nuzzled my cheek against his and fluttered my eyelashes lightly against his face. He snuggled in closer to me and kissed my neck just once, lightly.
"I'm just glad to be here with you," he said in his low voice that he only used when we were in bed together. He looked tired, but I knew he had no intention of going straight to bed. I wrapped my arms around him just a little tighter and I noticed he was much warmer already. I kissed his eyelid gently and sighed in contentment.
I felt his hands, which were now more comfortably warm, start to stroke my belly gently, and a quiet sigh escaped my lips. He kissed my neck more slowly, more carefully, and my fingers wound their way into his short and still damp hair.
"Babe, I have to get up for class tomorrow," I sighed as I tilted my head back. Another case of my brain telling me to stop while my body plows ahead.
"You're so driven, so smart," he said, in between kisses. "I love that about you." He began to kiss along my jaw line and up toward my lips, which were just waiting for him. My eyes fluttered shut as if on command when his lips meant mine. There was no urgency in his kiss; it was slow and sweet, and it made something in my stomach flip several times.
I felt his weight on top of me as he slid is body onto mine. I was somewhat surprised to feel his erection against me so soon, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him harder.
"Mmm, you should take this off," he said in his low voice again as he playfully tugged at my tank top. I half smiled and shook my head before I kissed him again, and his shoulders sagged for a moment in disappointment. "You're so tense; you need a massage." This made me smile. "Alright, lay on your back, take off that shirt, and I'll be back in a second."
I was hesitant to let him leave my arms, but I turned over after he got up and went to my vanity across the room, clearly looking for lotion of some kind. I was still hesitant to take off my shirt for fear of what might happen if he got me too worked up. He came back and straddled me as I lay there and started to massage me with his hands under my shirt.
"You know, to do this right, you have to lose this," he tugged at my shirt again, and I was so relaxed at that point that I merely sat up a few inches and pulled it over my head. I tossed it on the floor. What harm could possibly come of this as long as I'm facing away from him?
The next thing I felt was cool lotion on my skin; he had grabbed my favorite one by coincidence. Then his hands were on my back, so smooth and slick in the lotion he used, and any thought that had once inhabited my mind blended away into the night. His hands seemed incredibly big and unusually strong against my back. I breathed deeply, taking in every movement he made against my skin. He worked slowly, applying pressure in all the right spots and creating a heat with his hands that I hoped would never leave me. I moaned low and long; I always liked to let him know what he was doing to me.
All too soon I felt him gently lay against my back. "Did you like that?" He whispered, and I could hear him smiling. I moaned again to let him know that in fact I had enjoyed the back rub. I had enjoyed it so much, in fact, that I was wet with anticipation of what I knew was going to come afterward. It's just something about backrubs—they're one of my many turn-ons.