The rustling sheets are warm. Stiff and itchy. The blanket is heavy and suffocating. Heat crawls beneath my skin, muscles scream, trapped under too many layers. I cannot breathe.
His skin is
cool as my hip bumps into his. His dark brows are even, freckles on his nose
like snowflakes, melting. The bridge of his nose twitches when I blow into his
face, skin rippling for a second. Then he is lying still again, lips slightly
parted. I want to see behind these eyelids. What color are his eyes?
Yesterday.
His lips are
red and chapped, bruises on his throat. My lips on them, licking, sucking. Why
is skin so thin? The taste of copper.
Yesterday
was red. The bass in my stomach, in my throat and every joint. Pressure on my
chest, the slight panic, the release. Blurring colors and stretching forms.
Limbs stuttering in the light. Screaming dulling out to a constant buzz, in my
head. Contorted faces, flying by, and hands.
His hands
on my arms, squeezing, firmly.
“You okay?”
Our noses touch. Alcohol and sweat.
His lips on
my lips.
Cool skin
under hot hands. Ripples and ridges. Smooth surface. His heartbeat in my
fingertips, even and so close. What is the thickness of skin?
His hands
beneath my shirt, at my throat, on my breasts. The air is thick, sludge in my
lungs and his. His breath is hot on my face, toxic. Hot in my ear.
My fingers
slide over dry skin. Further down. Searching. Hesitating.
Upstairs. A
journey, my weight on his, his on mine. His feet, trial and error. My hand on
the banister, the anchor. Rubber soles keep catching on carpet. Gravitation
points downwards, he says. The bass is drowned out by the closing door but still
beats in me. Clumsy hands on damp clothes, plucking, tugging.
His sigh,
mere shift in the air on my face. My eyes on his closed ones. My fingers
towards the soft and warm. Closing in.
Clothes
peeled off, ripped off. Fingernails on bare skin, and his lips over my heart. Breathing,
panting. His weight heavy on my hips, his hands in my hair, raking. Damp skin,
rubbing against damp skin.
Eyes move
behind eyelids and my fingers wrap around him, hesitantly, gently. The wings of
his nose shiver.
His voice is
rough, words slurred. His hips are without rhythm, trembling. I use his own weight,
levering him on his back. His body twitches against mine.
“Can you-?”
“Fuck you.”
“Good.”
He is hard
with a few strokes, carelessly, impatiently. His wrists are pinned next to his
head. My lips on his. My lips on his skin, tasting, tearing. The smell of
copper. His groan vibrates in his body. Arms and legs are jerking in answer.
His
softness fills slowly. My sure fingers caress, coax. Determined. His lips part
wider, moaning. His eyelashes sit softly, like butterflies on a flower petal.
His howl
when we join. No transition, the rhythm is ruthless, senseless from the start.
Air grows into cement. Each breath desperate. He drives into me, the bass ever
growing, deafening. His arms shake against my weight on them, his body revolts
against the pleasure.
His hips
buck, weakly, muscles still spent. His eyes still closed, rapid movements
behind the thin layer of cells. My nose nearly touches his, my gaze never
leaves. My hand tightens, pulls, without mercy. Unrelenting. Tiny pants on my
cheeks, slowly quickening.
Fevered
thrusts, the relentless pace intensifying. Grunts end up trapped behind his
clenched teeth, muscles ripple under skin. Lust pulses through two bodies. His
convulses, eyes screwed shut and his cry drowns out the buzzing in my head.
Blissful silence, a split second. Then the explosion. His arm is around my
back, keeping me together. Drops of sweat like glitter on his skin.
His breath
hitches, nearly unnoticed. His chest shudders. Warm on my hand, and flowing
over my fingers. Slowly rubbing it in, cooling down. His eyelids flutter. Open.
Blue.
***
There is kind of a sequel to this story since I could not resist to play with (torture ;-)) the protagonists a bit more. Check out Silver!
It has plenty of beautiful images. My favourite ones:
ReplyDelete- His sigh, mere shift in the air on my face. My eyes on his closed ones. My fingers towards the soft and warm.
- His arm is around my back, keeping me together.
Thanks for sharing!
Aw... Thanks!
DeleteIt's really good to hear that you (and others) like it. Makes me happy!
Woke in middle of night. Couldn't sleep. What a nice surprise. Lovely, sexy images now I really won't sleep :)
ReplyDeleteHaha, it was not my intention to rob you of sleep =) But sounds like it was a good experience. Thanks!
DeleteWhat an unexpected treat! Thanks!
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome! Thank you for your comment.
DeleteEnticing, delicious. Unexpectedly original!
ReplyDelete*hugs Pepper* Thanks for your wonderful words!
DeleteDifferent and poetic. Makes me want more.
ReplyDeleteThanks a lot, Chie. Oh yes, it is tempting to turn that into more. Maybe... Not now though, I have too many unfinished things lying around.
Delete