Hey everyone, any feedback would be greatly appreciated. I realize it might be a softer story but tell me what you think
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“This time will be different,” she thought, as she checked over her shoulder that the lane next to her was clear. “This time…this time I’ll tell him.” The drive was familiar; the same nervous excitement mingled with anticipation that filled her every time she neared her destination, as she drew closer to him. It had been over a month since the last time she’d seen him and the absence of his touch had been felt every one of those thirty-five days. As she indicated to change into the next turning lane, she remembered all the conversations she’d had in her mind; the ones where she would tell him how he affected her and how thirty-five days felt like an eternity.
Day dreaming, despite the presence of stars in the sky, she wondered how it had come so far, this confusing relationship. It was definitely not what she had been looking for. For years they had sat next to each other in class; joking, laughing, best friends, but with the year that they had been separated he had grown from a boy into a man.
It had been a text that summoned her to him tonight, “Hey”, and with those three letters she felt that excitement deep in how stomach, knowing that tonight was the night. Every weekend she waited for this, every weekend she would sit in anticipation, waiting, praying for those three letters that say “I want you”. When the message never came, more weekends than not, she would sit, knees to her chest, hands tight around the locket that housed two little pictures of them together they had taken on an outing as teenagers. He had no clue of course, just how much she suffered when a weekend would pass without them being together. She was terrified that if he ever knew just how deep her feelings for him were that he wouldn’t feel the same…or scarier yet that he would. But tonight was the night, the night that would make or break her. With every street she grew closer to him, her nerves increasing at the memory of his touch.
Finally, after a forty minute drive, his apartment block comes into sight. Pulling into a spot out the front, she takes a moment before leaving her car, futilely trying to pull herself together. Once out of her car she walks with purpose toward the door, hitting his number into the keypad. Two heartbeats later the doors unlock and she climbs the two flights of stairs. Standing at his front door she finds herself breathing heavily, not from exertion, but from the way her heart is racing beneath her chest. “Slide-click” goes the locks on the other side of the door. She takes a deep breath.
And there he is, the source of her nervous anxiety, standing in the open doorway. Taking him in her eyes sweep over his dark jeans, black t-shirt that clings ever so slightly to his upper arms, his hair; dead straight, past his shoulders and the colour of the sky at sunrise, before she stops at his eyes. Those deep brown eyes that she knows glow amber when the sunlight hits them. Finally exhaling, she feels a great relief at the sight of him, a relief to be here with him after several weekends of disappointed longing.
As she follows him inside, she notices the slight smile to his lips, as if he’s also excited she’s here. Together the walk into his bedroom, and as he’s closing the door behind him and turning down the light, she sit on the edge of his bed, kicking off her shoes and taking off her bag. He moves toward the bed and takes a seat beside her. Nervous small talk ensues.
“You’ve changed your room around again,” she points out; (he has a habit of moving the furniture in his room, a lot). “Yeah” he replies with a slight chuckle. They talk about inane topics; his work, her Uni course, their families, until they find themselves lying down, he on his back and she on her side facing him. This is how it always went, each waiting for the other to initiate, and as usual she was the one to do so.
Placing her hand on his cheek, she drew herself closer to him, closer and closer until their lips met. A slow, sweet kiss quickly turns hot and heavy as their desires start to ignite. His hands clasps the back f her neck as he deepens their kiss, pulling her body closer to his. As their tongues meet, once, twice, she moans at the sweet taste of him. Struck with an ache inside of her that their bodies aren’t close enough, she needs to touch more of him; she straddles his hips and pushes her chest into his. As his hands roam down the sides of her body, she grinds her hips against his along the hard line of his erection beneath his jeans. His hands clench the fabric of her dress as his hips rise to meet the rhythm of hers.
Their kiss is interrupted as she sits up so he can slide her dress over her head, his eyes on her body as he throws the discarded dress on the floor. Pressed close together once more she can feel him grow harder and harder, the lace of her underwear and the rough cotton of his jeans creating torturous friction against her. Burying her face into his shoulder, he places hungry kisses on her neck, his beard grazing the sensitive skin until she moans as pleasure tingles throughout her body. All the while his hands grow more insistent upon her flesh, grasping her closer.
Without breaking their contact he rolls her onto her back, placing himself firmly between her thighs. Returning to the maddeningly deep kiss, his mouth and hips move in a rhythm that claims her as his own. Her hands find the bottom of his shirt and tug it up over his head, desperate to have skin touching skin. This time their bodies lightly grazes, his chest hair sending every nerve into a frenzy, her hips rising and rotating to press herself against him. Moving away from her lips, he begins to lay a line of those hungry kisses from neck to navel, his hair trailing softly behind.
When he reaches the line of her lacy underwear he slides his fingers inside and as he’s pulling them off her hips rise to accommodate. Once they’re on the floor he resumes his place on top of her, only his left hand stays between her thighs and begins to stroke her. When he reaches that sweet spot that makes her gasp, his fingers start to rotate; circles that grow faster and harder along with her cries. The exquisite dizziness brought on by his touch is only reprieved when his hand moves lower to slip two fingers inside her. This incites a deep moan from within her as he strokes her from the inside. The pressure mounting from the skill of his fingers drives her passion further; reaching down past his hand she roughly grasps the hardness between his legs, stroking it through his pants. As he brings her ever closer to climax with his fingers his breathing hitches at the feel of her tight grip on his erection. Moving faster still with his hand he feels her tightening around his fingers as she cries out in the ecstasy of her orgasm.
Removing his fingers, he finds her tugging on the button of his jeans, working the zipper down. Pulling away, he helps her by taking off his jeans and briefs. While he does so he watches her intently with a hooded gaze as she sits up and unclasps her bra, it taking its place in the mound of clothes on the floor. She likens him to a lion in her mind, as he crawls on hands and knees toward her, hungry for the feel of her breasts. Kissing, licking sucking with his mouth, cupping and squeezing with his hands, her back arches up to meet him, nipples hard with arousal. Placing a hand on either side of his head she draws him up to claim his mouth in a slow languid kiss.
Reaching between their bodies she places his hardness against her slit. With her hand above and her sex below, he slides along her hot, wet lips. Every time his head rubs over her clit a moan escapes her and her hand tightens around him, sending a jolt of pleasure deep into his stomach. Against her hand she was astonished to feel him growing harder still at the sound of her moans. Moving her legs up until they crossed at his lower back, she repositioned him so his head rested at her opening.
With a slow thrust he entered her. She gasped as he stretched her open; the glorious feeling of him filling her up. He began to move slowly, in and out, taking his pleasure in the feel of her hot and slick around him. Her hands moved to his face, brushing the curtain of his hair back until her hands met behind his head. Every thrust grew deeper and faster, every thrust grinding against her sensitive clit until she felt that pressure building inside her again.
Sliding her arms under his, she clung to his back as her breathing became shallower and more erratic with her pleasure. Feeling her nails dig into his back with an almost painful sting he increased his pace, feeling his own climax nearing. The fast pace of his thrusts causes her to cry out, “Oh God...” as she pulls him down closer to her, forcing him to rest on his elbows. The weight and closeness of his body on hers pushes her over the edge. A feeling akin to falling swept through her as between her legs an explosion of pleasure drove her to her limits.
He felt her orgasm around her, her muscles clenching him from the inside. He heard it in the cries and moans as she pressed her hands into the muscles between his shoulder blades, massaging him with every thrust. With these sensations he came undone and with a few final thrusts he was spent. Collapsing on top of her, with her still wrapped around him, they lay for a moment; both panting trying to catch their breath.
She drew a hand across his face, softly brushing away his hair so she could gently kiss his forehead, eyebrow, cheek and nose. “Ashlin, I… “, she started but held herself back, fear taking over. He turned his head to look into her eyes as he said “I know”. Surprised she stuttered, “You-you know?” with a smile he leant over and gave her the sweetest of kisses. Pulling away just an inch, he whispered, “And Eva, I do too.”
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“This time will be different,” she thought, as she checked over her shoulder that the lane next to her was clear. “This time…this time I’ll tell him.” The drive was familiar; the same nervous excitement mingled with anticipation that filled her every time she neared her destination, as she drew closer to him. It had been over a month since the last time she’d seen him and the absence of his touch had been felt every one of those thirty-five days. As she indicated to change into the next turning lane, she remembered all the conversations she’d had in her mind; the ones where she would tell him how he affected her and how thirty-five days felt like an eternity.
Day dreaming, despite the presence of stars in the sky, she wondered how it had come so far, this confusing relationship. It was definitely not what she had been looking for. For years they had sat next to each other in class; joking, laughing, best friends, but with the year that they had been separated he had grown from a boy into a man.
It had been a text that summoned her to him tonight, “Hey”, and with those three letters she felt that excitement deep in how stomach, knowing that tonight was the night. Every weekend she waited for this, every weekend she would sit in anticipation, waiting, praying for those three letters that say “I want you”. When the message never came, more weekends than not, she would sit, knees to her chest, hands tight around the locket that housed two little pictures of them together they had taken on an outing as teenagers. He had no clue of course, just how much she suffered when a weekend would pass without them being together. She was terrified that if he ever knew just how deep her feelings for him were that he wouldn’t feel the same…or scarier yet that he would. But tonight was the night, the night that would make or break her. With every street she grew closer to him, her nerves increasing at the memory of his touch.
Finally, after a forty minute drive, his apartment block comes into sight. Pulling into a spot out the front, she takes a moment before leaving her car, futilely trying to pull herself together. Once out of her car she walks with purpose toward the door, hitting his number into the keypad. Two heartbeats later the doors unlock and she climbs the two flights of stairs. Standing at his front door she finds herself breathing heavily, not from exertion, but from the way her heart is racing beneath her chest. “Slide-click” goes the locks on the other side of the door. She takes a deep breath.
And there he is, the source of her nervous anxiety, standing in the open doorway. Taking him in her eyes sweep over his dark jeans, black t-shirt that clings ever so slightly to his upper arms, his hair; dead straight, past his shoulders and the colour of the sky at sunrise, before she stops at his eyes. Those deep brown eyes that she knows glow amber when the sunlight hits them. Finally exhaling, she feels a great relief at the sight of him, a relief to be here with him after several weekends of disappointed longing.
As she follows him inside, she notices the slight smile to his lips, as if he’s also excited she’s here. Together the walk into his bedroom, and as he’s closing the door behind him and turning down the light, she sit on the edge of his bed, kicking off her shoes and taking off her bag. He moves toward the bed and takes a seat beside her. Nervous small talk ensues.
“You’ve changed your room around again,” she points out; (he has a habit of moving the furniture in his room, a lot). “Yeah” he replies with a slight chuckle. They talk about inane topics; his work, her Uni course, their families, until they find themselves lying down, he on his back and she on her side facing him. This is how it always went, each waiting for the other to initiate, and as usual she was the one to do so.
Placing her hand on his cheek, she drew herself closer to him, closer and closer until their lips met. A slow, sweet kiss quickly turns hot and heavy as their desires start to ignite. His hands clasps the back f her neck as he deepens their kiss, pulling her body closer to his. As their tongues meet, once, twice, she moans at the sweet taste of him. Struck with an ache inside of her that their bodies aren’t close enough, she needs to touch more of him; she straddles his hips and pushes her chest into his. As his hands roam down the sides of her body, she grinds her hips against his along the hard line of his erection beneath his jeans. His hands clench the fabric of her dress as his hips rise to meet the rhythm of hers.
Their kiss is interrupted as she sits up so he can slide her dress over her head, his eyes on her body as he throws the discarded dress on the floor. Pressed close together once more she can feel him grow harder and harder, the lace of her underwear and the rough cotton of his jeans creating torturous friction against her. Burying her face into his shoulder, he places hungry kisses on her neck, his beard grazing the sensitive skin until she moans as pleasure tingles throughout her body. All the while his hands grow more insistent upon her flesh, grasping her closer.
Without breaking their contact he rolls her onto her back, placing himself firmly between her thighs. Returning to the maddeningly deep kiss, his mouth and hips move in a rhythm that claims her as his own. Her hands find the bottom of his shirt and tug it up over his head, desperate to have skin touching skin. This time their bodies lightly grazes, his chest hair sending every nerve into a frenzy, her hips rising and rotating to press herself against him. Moving away from her lips, he begins to lay a line of those hungry kisses from neck to navel, his hair trailing softly behind.
When he reaches the line of her lacy underwear he slides his fingers inside and as he’s pulling them off her hips rise to accommodate. Once they’re on the floor he resumes his place on top of her, only his left hand stays between her thighs and begins to stroke her. When he reaches that sweet spot that makes her gasp, his fingers start to rotate; circles that grow faster and harder along with her cries. The exquisite dizziness brought on by his touch is only reprieved when his hand moves lower to slip two fingers inside her. This incites a deep moan from within her as he strokes her from the inside. The pressure mounting from the skill of his fingers drives her passion further; reaching down past his hand she roughly grasps the hardness between his legs, stroking it through his pants. As he brings her ever closer to climax with his fingers his breathing hitches at the feel of her tight grip on his erection. Moving faster still with his hand he feels her tightening around his fingers as she cries out in the ecstasy of her orgasm.
Removing his fingers, he finds her tugging on the button of his jeans, working the zipper down. Pulling away, he helps her by taking off his jeans and briefs. While he does so he watches her intently with a hooded gaze as she sits up and unclasps her bra, it taking its place in the mound of clothes on the floor. She likens him to a lion in her mind, as he crawls on hands and knees toward her, hungry for the feel of her breasts. Kissing, licking sucking with his mouth, cupping and squeezing with his hands, her back arches up to meet him, nipples hard with arousal. Placing a hand on either side of his head she draws him up to claim his mouth in a slow languid kiss.
Reaching between their bodies she places his hardness against her slit. With her hand above and her sex below, he slides along her hot, wet lips. Every time his head rubs over her clit a moan escapes her and her hand tightens around him, sending a jolt of pleasure deep into his stomach. Against her hand she was astonished to feel him growing harder still at the sound of her moans. Moving her legs up until they crossed at his lower back, she repositioned him so his head rested at her opening.
With a slow thrust he entered her. She gasped as he stretched her open; the glorious feeling of him filling her up. He began to move slowly, in and out, taking his pleasure in the feel of her hot and slick around him. Her hands moved to his face, brushing the curtain of his hair back until her hands met behind his head. Every thrust grew deeper and faster, every thrust grinding against her sensitive clit until she felt that pressure building inside her again.
Sliding her arms under his, she clung to his back as her breathing became shallower and more erratic with her pleasure. Feeling her nails dig into his back with an almost painful sting he increased his pace, feeling his own climax nearing. The fast pace of his thrusts causes her to cry out, “Oh God...” as she pulls him down closer to her, forcing him to rest on his elbows. The weight and closeness of his body on hers pushes her over the edge. A feeling akin to falling swept through her as between her legs an explosion of pleasure drove her to her limits.
He felt her orgasm around her, her muscles clenching him from the inside. He heard it in the cries and moans as she pressed her hands into the muscles between his shoulder blades, massaging him with every thrust. With these sensations he came undone and with a few final thrusts he was spent. Collapsing on top of her, with her still wrapped around him, they lay for a moment; both panting trying to catch their breath.
She drew a hand across his face, softly brushing away his hair so she could gently kiss his forehead, eyebrow, cheek and nose. “Ashlin, I… “, she started but held herself back, fear taking over. He turned his head to look into her eyes as he said “I know”. Surprised she stuttered, “You-you know?” with a smile he leant over and gave her the sweetest of kisses. Pulling away just an inch, he whispered, “And Eva, I do too.”
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