Mr.Sandman
folder
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
2,136
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
2,136
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
(10) A Pair of Vice
(10) A Pair of Vice
My shoes fell off like drops of warm water, my socks following there after and my toes touched the cold tile of the floor to curl.
Consumed by the strange envelopment, I was stunned to the breach where I no longer knew what held me together and up, the mass of meat with hair that clung to me but bolstered my ease.
His smell, almost like a curse, confines my mind to tightly wind till it disappears without a trace. The pressure subsiding and the world glitters.
It’s so strange.
I feel a gentle breeze, brushing against us and white light casts with intensity.
I could not have ever imagined this feeling.
This…was other worldly, strange but fitting.
His hands and his mouth were moving slowly, filling and pulling. But they were welded feelings and I couldn’t identify them from my bliss.
I didn’t feel the need to.
His movements smeared by the white were tender and eager, I only realized how far things had moved along when the sweating skin and the clenched muscles of my back came in contact with delicious iciness of the bed sheets.
I believe I made sounds.
I usually did in my dreams with him, why would reality be any…
No, reality was much more different.
Raine, in my arms, his lust filled kisses and his amorous glow shriveled any expectation I could have had from before.
The stories of butterflies in the stomach were the small olive pits of the raging fire that dwelled in the oil caked insides of my body.
The swimming of my head was beyond such clear idealistic solutions.
And the only thought that actually managed to portray a role worthy of my sympathy, was that if he let go,
I would die.
There was no questioning. There couldn’t have been.
I was blind with eyes wide open, seeing only his equally blinded face.
Was it surprise?
Ethereal love?
An answer to millions of unspoken prayers?
Then, he penetrated.
My hands twitched madly and took handfuls of him.
My feet carved the mattress and my scalp spade the pillow.
Something was wrong.
He did not fit against me.
The white light began to melt like sugar into caramel and I was frantic.
He gasped my name but I could give no answer.
He tried again.
And again.
And succeeded.
Our course had changed and so followed the moods and emotions.
He said my name again, but this time, I could not recognize his voice that had undertaken a new tone.
Suddenly uncomfortable and suffocating, I squirmed and inhaled with fear.
His movements no longer were docile and trustworthy, but clumsy and filled with his own despair.
He strokes did not change by speed or length of time in which he withdrew, but I did.
Seemingly to accustom to the brute lovemaking, I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist.
It burned, but sent an aftertaste that was not there before.
And surprisingly, it no longer became enough.
The fact that this portion filled my womb was no where near enough to satisfy my hunger for him.
He understood automatically and sat back on his calves, pulling me up and bringing me down.
Finally the speed began to change.
The white light returned but instead of the blissful shine, they were smothering shooting stars.
My head lolled back and welcomed an incoming star.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I woke up to something new.
A heartbeat to my ear and a solid warmth pressed to my side. It shifted, and before it went away, I moved to its new position with it.
It curved and lifted.
I finally opened my eyes reluctantly.
Raine scratched his matted hair and stretched his long lean limbs to the evening’s last rays.
My heart had long ago grown tired of skipping beats so had officially gone on strike by shutting down at his mere appearance.
He yawned and cracked his neck before slouching and rubbing his eyes.
I was settled into a casket I could forever remain.
His head turned slightly and his eyes rested on my sheet covered legs. I bent them, uncomfortable by his intense look.
Slowly, he eased himself back down into his original position, facing the window.
“I’m awake.” I brooled hoarsely.
He breathed. “I know.”
The weight of my brain returned and heavily leaned on my eye lids. “Do you want me to go?”
His lack of answer coiled my stomach near to lurching until his response was, “No.”
“I love you.” I said defenseless.
It took a moment but his body flipped to his side, now to me and the bed bounced with the quick shift of his weight.
“That was…I…” his frustration took his words away.
My arms flexed to the dying light and nestled his head. “Sshh…I understand. For me too.”
He was too eager to bury his face against my skin and I welcomed him.
“Raine, what are we going to do?” I was at ease.
His words tickled my hairs and my body softened to him. “Never part.”
“I know what you mean, but, we are still strangers. I know still so little of you and you of me. How would we make a relationship work?”
When he turned us over so that I lay on him, I felt the soreness rooted deeply in me.
“You can say what you want. I’m not letting you go.”
I smiled with a wishful defeat. “Maybe that’s the first step.”
His smile was the release of a dove, blooming with flight and captivating. His eyes were the trails of my heart in his.
I shuddered at his words. “So what’s the second?”
“Confessions.”
His smile faltered. “Confessions?”
“I will tell you something about me you didn’t know, then you’ll follow.” I rested my head on his chest.
“Am I allowed to ask questions?” the vibrations felt like a purr.
“Yes, same for me and we must answer truthfully.”
His hand came up and twirled around a lock of hair, poking my nose. “Alright, then. Start.”
“What’s your favorite food?”
His stomach rumbled and we laughed. “Pears.” he answered sheepishly then coughed weakly to make his question. “What are your hobbies?”
“I like to write poetry. I’m a big fan of Frost. Do you play a musical instrument?”
He nodded and with uneasiness admitted to be a violinist when younger.
“Do you like dogs?”
I grimaced and hid my face. “No. I like cats.”
He chuckled, “I like birds.”
“Birds are ungrateful.”
“Same could be said of the cats, I suppose.”
“Naw aww, my cats love me. My older cat sleeps in my room with me every night.”
Our run of words died. Silence was so easily detested.
“Raine?”
“Yes, luv?”
“When I first met you in person, Albert had told me something about you sleeping since an accident. What happened?”
His arms fell to his sides and his body turned to unmoving stone.
“Tracy…not that…”
My shoes fell off like drops of warm water, my socks following there after and my toes touched the cold tile of the floor to curl.
Consumed by the strange envelopment, I was stunned to the breach where I no longer knew what held me together and up, the mass of meat with hair that clung to me but bolstered my ease.
His smell, almost like a curse, confines my mind to tightly wind till it disappears without a trace. The pressure subsiding and the world glitters.
It’s so strange.
I feel a gentle breeze, brushing against us and white light casts with intensity.
I could not have ever imagined this feeling.
This…was other worldly, strange but fitting.
His hands and his mouth were moving slowly, filling and pulling. But they were welded feelings and I couldn’t identify them from my bliss.
I didn’t feel the need to.
His movements smeared by the white were tender and eager, I only realized how far things had moved along when the sweating skin and the clenched muscles of my back came in contact with delicious iciness of the bed sheets.
I believe I made sounds.
I usually did in my dreams with him, why would reality be any…
No, reality was much more different.
Raine, in my arms, his lust filled kisses and his amorous glow shriveled any expectation I could have had from before.
The stories of butterflies in the stomach were the small olive pits of the raging fire that dwelled in the oil caked insides of my body.
The swimming of my head was beyond such clear idealistic solutions.
And the only thought that actually managed to portray a role worthy of my sympathy, was that if he let go,
I would die.
There was no questioning. There couldn’t have been.
I was blind with eyes wide open, seeing only his equally blinded face.
Was it surprise?
Ethereal love?
An answer to millions of unspoken prayers?
Then, he penetrated.
My hands twitched madly and took handfuls of him.
My feet carved the mattress and my scalp spade the pillow.
Something was wrong.
He did not fit against me.
The white light began to melt like sugar into caramel and I was frantic.
He gasped my name but I could give no answer.
He tried again.
And again.
And succeeded.
Our course had changed and so followed the moods and emotions.
He said my name again, but this time, I could not recognize his voice that had undertaken a new tone.
Suddenly uncomfortable and suffocating, I squirmed and inhaled with fear.
His movements no longer were docile and trustworthy, but clumsy and filled with his own despair.
He strokes did not change by speed or length of time in which he withdrew, but I did.
Seemingly to accustom to the brute lovemaking, I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist.
It burned, but sent an aftertaste that was not there before.
And surprisingly, it no longer became enough.
The fact that this portion filled my womb was no where near enough to satisfy my hunger for him.
He understood automatically and sat back on his calves, pulling me up and bringing me down.
Finally the speed began to change.
The white light returned but instead of the blissful shine, they were smothering shooting stars.
My head lolled back and welcomed an incoming star.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I woke up to something new.
A heartbeat to my ear and a solid warmth pressed to my side. It shifted, and before it went away, I moved to its new position with it.
It curved and lifted.
I finally opened my eyes reluctantly.
Raine scratched his matted hair and stretched his long lean limbs to the evening’s last rays.
My heart had long ago grown tired of skipping beats so had officially gone on strike by shutting down at his mere appearance.
He yawned and cracked his neck before slouching and rubbing his eyes.
I was settled into a casket I could forever remain.
His head turned slightly and his eyes rested on my sheet covered legs. I bent them, uncomfortable by his intense look.
Slowly, he eased himself back down into his original position, facing the window.
“I’m awake.” I brooled hoarsely.
He breathed. “I know.”
The weight of my brain returned and heavily leaned on my eye lids. “Do you want me to go?”
His lack of answer coiled my stomach near to lurching until his response was, “No.”
“I love you.” I said defenseless.
It took a moment but his body flipped to his side, now to me and the bed bounced with the quick shift of his weight.
“That was…I…” his frustration took his words away.
My arms flexed to the dying light and nestled his head. “Sshh…I understand. For me too.”
He was too eager to bury his face against my skin and I welcomed him.
“Raine, what are we going to do?” I was at ease.
His words tickled my hairs and my body softened to him. “Never part.”
“I know what you mean, but, we are still strangers. I know still so little of you and you of me. How would we make a relationship work?”
When he turned us over so that I lay on him, I felt the soreness rooted deeply in me.
“You can say what you want. I’m not letting you go.”
I smiled with a wishful defeat. “Maybe that’s the first step.”
His smile was the release of a dove, blooming with flight and captivating. His eyes were the trails of my heart in his.
I shuddered at his words. “So what’s the second?”
“Confessions.”
His smile faltered. “Confessions?”
“I will tell you something about me you didn’t know, then you’ll follow.” I rested my head on his chest.
“Am I allowed to ask questions?” the vibrations felt like a purr.
“Yes, same for me and we must answer truthfully.”
His hand came up and twirled around a lock of hair, poking my nose. “Alright, then. Start.”
“What’s your favorite food?”
His stomach rumbled and we laughed. “Pears.” he answered sheepishly then coughed weakly to make his question. “What are your hobbies?”
“I like to write poetry. I’m a big fan of Frost. Do you play a musical instrument?”
He nodded and with uneasiness admitted to be a violinist when younger.
“Do you like dogs?”
I grimaced and hid my face. “No. I like cats.”
He chuckled, “I like birds.”
“Birds are ungrateful.”
“Same could be said of the cats, I suppose.”
“Naw aww, my cats love me. My older cat sleeps in my room with me every night.”
Our run of words died. Silence was so easily detested.
“Raine?”
“Yes, luv?”
“When I first met you in person, Albert had told me something about you sleeping since an accident. What happened?”
His arms fell to his sides and his body turned to unmoving stone.
“Tracy…not that…”