**Note: this is the first portion of a longer story I've been working on. I'll upload next sections as the are finished**
Movement. The feeling of warm flesh against warm flesh surged in Paul's mind. The electricity felt when skin touched was immediately recognizable, unlike the surroundings he found himself in. Unfamiliar walls, unfamiliar paintings - a very unfamiliar cat novelty clock on the wall. It was difficult to tell where he was; the dimly lit room kept being obscured - like a thick blanket passing into view. Heavy, slow passes of something that kept him from seeing where he was. Eyelids? As soon as he had the thought, Paul realized he could stop the obfuscation at will. He realized that he was blinking - but slowly, heavily, like something was off. A small amount of focus returned to him and Paul started to recollect himself. Where am I? What's going - his thoughts were interrupted by a sudden shift. Another jolt of that electricity and he refocused on what woke him up.
Now starting to wake-up, he immediately recognized the sensation he was feeling. Any young man would be able to recognize it. The smooth, rhythmic motions of another person on his penis. The motions of his penis in someone. Another realization and another jolt of electricity as the other body thrust back, pushing him back into them. It was so warm, so tight. The tip of his penis sent a signal to his brain as it collided with the innermost wall and it felt good. Not only was he inside someone, but he was deep inside someone.
Woken by the thrusts - not aggressive but instead slow, decisive, powerful motions - Paul recognized that despite almost 30 years in the world and despite always hearing stories of loving partners being woken up with sex, he'd never encountered it himself. It was not an unwelcome feeling, far from that, but his overall confusion did detract from the joy. Another thrust and another jolt - the confusion seemed to become less pertinent every time that happened.
The room was dark, save for the light streaming in from the windows. A night bright enough to dimly illuminate the surroundings, but dark enough to still be unclear. Paul moved his hands towards the person beside him. A woman - thank god - laid in front of him as if they were spooning. The feeling of soft skin on his own immediately enticed him. The feeling of her skin and another thrust was too much to bear and he tensed, his fingers digging into her skin. As he gripped her, she let out a small sound and quickly thrust backwards again - this time with a small grinding flourish. He felt himself rub and spin inside her. More than a jolt this time.
Paul was now fully aware of the situation - even though some small details like who and why and how were being overlooked. He moved his hands lower and gripped the waist of the woman. While it was still not frantic, the pace had quickened. Both he and the woman thrusted in tandem. Her ass pushed backwards into him, meeting his own thrusts into her. Paul and the woman both used their hips to writhe as they were pushing into each other. Despite the sheets covering them and the slower pace, the sound of her ass hitting against him was becoming more prominent.
The woman smelt amazing, but at the same time like cheap booze. It brought him back to his college days. Sweet smelling girls that always smelled a bit like the well vodka they had been drinking. Her hair was long and dark. She must be short - Paul thought as he realized that he was inside her but his face wasn't being smothered by her hair. While he noticed these things slowly, the one thing he felt immediately was her curves. My god - she was curvy. Paul's hands migrated so that one was firmly planted on her waist and the other was gripped around her breast. Her hips were easily wider than him - despite their disparity in height - and while she was clearly not incredibly thin, her waist was trim. The disparity between her waist and hips would have to be distinct for it to feel this way.
While his right hand gripped her waist, the left was firmly latched onto her breast. These too, did not disappoint. The large breast was warm to the touch and slightly wet. Clearly, the increased pace was causing one of them to sweat - perhaps both. The soft, heavy breast felt good gripped tightly in his hand. Every few seconds he would squeeze and another sound would come from the woman. While not nearly as cartoonishly large - Paul distinctly felt like he was trying to palm a basketball.