A Fantasy 19

I smile, as I feel you behind me. I remember what happened last night; you were wearing the old Metallica t shirt, the one which you spilled paint on, and it tickles my back. You must have put it back on, during the night.

My eyes aren't even open yet, yet I know everything. My room, in my house, with my you. Your body is as familiar to me as my own; even more so. I can feel your thighs, behind mine. You're always warm. It's good in the winter.

Your hair is gorgeous; reminds me of sunlight, falling down from an open window in the morning. You even smell like summer to me. A mixture of dry grass and salt. Sea salt. You tasted like salt last night, did you want me all day? Unable to get away from work, longing, as I was, for this brief time we have to ourselves? I roll over, and you make a noise; you're still asleep, but only just.

I'm not a man, but I can see why your boss always cracks on to you. You're beautiful. You have the deepest blue eyes I've ever seen. Like I said, they remind me of summer. The same blue as the sky, when there are no clouds and nothing except the sun and the deep, long blue. Your mum says forget-me-not blue, but I've never seen one of those flowers. I just think of the sky.

I can't see your face; your hair is in the way. And I want to see you. Lightly, ever so lightly, I hook it in behind your ear. I don't want you to wake up. You always blush under my scrutiny, even though I let you look at me as much as you wanted. And you are never as at peace as when you are asleep. You never rest when you're awake, always worrying about something or other, your lips pursed, your brow furrowed. And that's not really how I like your lips.

Your eyes flutter, and your lips curve. I run the fingers of my hand down your cheek, feeling the bones underneath.

"Hey you," I say, and you smile at me as you lean towards me.

I close my eyes, as you touch your lips to mine. It is always like the first time we kissed, for me. First, a soft pressure, but not oppressive. Your lips tasted warm. Like something hot, and sweet. Your mouth melted into me, and I left my mind, and entered yours. A kiss can last a lifetime. Yours always did.

You're possessive this morning. You push me onto my back, your lips curving as you kiss me still. I love it when you're like this. Playful, mysterious. It makes me love you all the more. And I am still kind of ... well, wet, from last night.

Mmmm. Last night. It feels like something from a fairytale, or at least a porn movie. You were over me and I was over you. We kissed and we tasted and we melted into each other, over and over, your tongue drinking my sex for all I was worth. My hands felt every inch of you, and you never learnt to keep your voice down. Your moans thrilled me, excited me, far far more than I ever thought possible. Your pleasure was mine, and I lived to die in your arms. Again and again.

Your hands are at my hip, and you run the tip of your tongue around my nipples. I lean in. You know I like it. I stifle my moan. I just can't let go like you can, even when you bite me. I love it when you bite me, leave your mark on me. I want everyone to know I'm yours.

You nibble, at the space between my breasts. Ah. Your fingers are running invisible lines of fire along the insides of my thighs. My hands find your hair, and I look down at you. Breathtaking. Imagine, golden hair falling between my breasts as your hips sway in the air, ponderous, sensuous. I can't stop wanting you, wanting this. I never want you to stop. It makes my heart fly away, and I can't breathe. But don't stop. Never ever stop.

Your tongue trails lower, lower, your teeth finding the sensitive valleys of my stomach. You know I'm ticklish; I squirm, and try to wrestle away from you. But you laugh, and take my wrists between your hands. You put your weight on your arms, and you bring your face up to my level. You stare into my eyes. Sheer utter awe. How on earth did I get you?

Your eyes shut, and you lower your face to mine. We kiss, but not as we did before. No, now the word kiss is not adequate. We fuse, we melt, we combine, the two of us no longer enough. I am you and you are me, and I feel your hands between my legs as I run my fingers along your sex, finding your pleasure. Your voice is loud; rough, from sleep, but infinitely more sexy because of it.

I nibble on your lower lip. My fingers find your depths, and slip inside, and you lean in, towards me. You feel warm, completely impossibly warm. I almost wish I was male, so I could be inside you as they can, and fill you completely. But this is enough; this is more than enough.

You moan, as you force my fingers in deeper, your mouth growing more insistent. You want it now; you can see the end. You can feel it building; I can see it in your eyes. Your skin deepens, becomes red. You flush. I feel you tighten around me. You kiss me hungrily, forcefully. I deepen the contact, letting her ride it out.

You pull my hands away, and place them by my sides, pinning me again. I feel your mouth on my neck, but all I can see is your hair, flowing down from my collarbone, surrounding my body. I arch my back. Your mouth raises fire inside.

Your fingernails fun along the inside of my wrists. You mouth dips lower, and follows the contours of my stomach. I burn. Words are almost beyond me. I feel your mouth, even see your head dip, as your tongue runs its way along the length of my pleasure. Your tongue is long, so when it reaches my sex it penetrates it lightly, softly. Liquid fire. My fingers, tangled in your hair. Burning, sweet burning. Wet. Hot. Now. Now. Now.

Rush. Breathing. Loud, deep. I can feel my arms again. I hate returning back to my body. In my little room, all by myself. I wish I could see you now, but you're gone. Blake took you back, and your little experiment is finished. But I just wish you had told me before you made me love you. Now, all I have is a memory.