stupor

Exhausted and barely able to stand, she leans against the counter. Her teeth minty fresh, she changes into her pajamas and loosens her now long hair out of its clasp. Brushes it down a few times, and shuffles over to the bed. Sinking under the covers, she reaches for the jar of cream. Eyes closing, she changes her mind, and shifts onto her side. Tucking the comforter under her chin, she closes her eyes.

She feels the bed shift under his weight. Making room, she turns over. He places his hand over her waist and snuggles in close. Each slip into the other’s curves, a practiced routine. Sleep forcing way into her mind, she resists as he slips his hand under her shirt.

No. Am tired. Not tonight.

I just want to feel you. Go back to sleep.” He whispers laying small nibbles at her neck.

No, really. Just let’s sleep.” Pushing his hand back firmly. “It’s been a long day. Am sore all over.

“Oh? How about a massage?

That was a rare offer. She’d have normally jumped at it, but tonight she wasn’t so sure. All she wanted was to sleep. She was up at 5.30 and had been running since. Through a foggy mind, she saw what would happen next. Without waiting for her murmur, he slips her shirt off.

She flips over, defeated.

His palms start at her shoulders and move down her blades, along her back. She sighs resignedly. His touch was softer than hers. Blessed with delicate and long boned fingers, she always had to push him to press down just a bit harder. She wasn’t made of crystal, she’d remind him. He’d smile and try. She’d smile and give up.

Tonight, it was different. She felt his hands move further. Past the softness of her sides, the curve of her back, the firm bones that widened her hips, his choppy breath following close behind. Rocking her senses into a slumber.

“Your back’s the span of my palm. You’ve lost weight!?”

“hmm..”

A warmth grows in heat matching the breath. A familiar rhythm. Fingers locked in curls. Sweat pooling at her neck. A moan drenched in desire laced with longing.

She murmurs his name.

His fingers pull at her hair. His weight crushes her below with intensity. Arching her neck, she winces. Her eyes fly open.

Through clenched teeth he asks:

“”Who is he?”

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24 replies on “stupor”
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