hair behind my ear.
This man does something crazy to me. Blurred face and all. I’m at the point where I don’t care who he is. I don’t care where we are or if this might only be a dream. All I want is for him to lie me down on this surface and make sweet, sweet, love to me. I want him to set my heart ablaze. Send me into a passionate oblivion. And turn my world upside down.
He’s being gentle now. Touching my face. Brushing his lips against mine. His mouth tastes like honey and I want to swallow it. Guzzle it down by the jarful I pull away from him and his fingers grip my chin. “Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is light-hearted. Amused.
“You never answered my question,” I tell him.
“Remind me again,” he whispers into my ear before tracing my jawline with his teeth, “what was it?”
I lie flat and he hovers on top of me, spreading my legs with a gentle push. I run my fingers through his hair and something feels off. He answers my question when he thrusts inside of me and lies down on top of me. Our legs intertwined. Breathing raspy. Bodies sticky with heat and moisture.
He moves inside of me. At first it’s slow and I hike my legs up in response when his hips melt into mine. Then he positions his lips over top of mine and breathes into my mouth, “I’m going to fuck you, Adelaide.”
I can’t respond because the way his hips are grinding against mine send me into a frenzy of a delicious pleasure so intense all I can do is moan.
“Would you like that, Adelaide?” he asks.
My reply is a moan.
His thrusts quicken and I bite my lip, crying out. I’m so twisted, so lost, so racked with passion that it feels like it’s about to explode inside of me. My eyes center on this man’s chest as he becomes more forceful and my body begins sliding across the surface of the object I’m on. Realization hits me. It doesn’t matter what my heart was telling me because no I know this man is not Damien.
Damien has a tiny scar just below his left shoulder blade. This man doesn’t. Damien has a small patch of hair along his breast bone. This man’s chest is soft and smooth and the only hair he has is a happy trail down the length of his stomach.
He hunches over me, clinging to me, breathing into my ear, pressing his lips to mine. And thrusting and thrusting and thrusting. There’s a huge debate sounding off inside of my head. Part of me keeps wondering what the hell I’m doing. A voice keeps hissing at me, How could you do this to Damien? He’d never do this to you. But there’s another bigger part of me that’s screaming, don’t fight it. Let go. If this was wrong it wouldn’t feel so right.
The man on top of me grunts out my name with another deep thrust and I gasp out in a highpitched voice as I dig my nails into his back. Suddenly I feel like I’m hovering over a deep ravine, looking down, trying to locate the bottom. Someone pushes me. I fall. My limbs flail. Waves of fear slosh around in my belly. At the same time a free, liberating feeling whips through me and even though I’m plummeting downward faster and faster I feel like I’m being thrust upward. I feel like I’m flying.
The man I’m screwing in this wet dream of mine gives one final thrust before heaping over on top of me. Our chests rise together as we steady our breathing. Something about everything that just happened makes me feel complete. Like somewhere deep down inside of me I get the gut feeling that I know this man and that maybe I was supposed to be making love to him.
But what about Damien?
I promised myself that I’d love him forever. That I’d let him keep my heart. I promised him no other man would ever make me feel the way he does. And here is this stranger, who has so many familiarities. A man I swear that I feel connected to somehow.
“I love you, Adelaide,” he murmurs as he picks himself up off me and smoothes my damp hair away from my forehead.
If he loves me, I must know him. For God’s
This man does something crazy to me. Blurred face and all. I’m at the point where I don’t care who he is. I don’t care where we are or if this might only be a dream. All I want is for him to lie me down on this surface and make sweet, sweet, love to me. I want him to set my heart ablaze. Send me into a passionate oblivion. And turn my world upside down.
He’s being gentle now. Touching my face. Brushing his lips against mine. His mouth tastes like honey and I want to swallow it. Guzzle it down by the jarful I pull away from him and his fingers grip my chin. “Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is light-hearted. Amused.
“You never answered my question,” I tell him.
“Remind me again,” he whispers into my ear before tracing my jawline with his teeth, “what was it?”
I lie flat and he hovers on top of me, spreading my legs with a gentle push. I run my fingers through his hair and something feels off. He answers my question when he thrusts inside of me and lies down on top of me. Our legs intertwined. Breathing raspy. Bodies sticky with heat and moisture.
He moves inside of me. At first it’s slow and I hike my legs up in response when his hips melt into mine. Then he positions his lips over top of mine and breathes into my mouth, “I’m going to fuck you, Adelaide.”
I can’t respond because the way his hips are grinding against mine send me into a frenzy of a delicious pleasure so intense all I can do is moan.
“Would you like that, Adelaide?” he asks.
My reply is a moan.
His thrusts quicken and I bite my lip, crying out. I’m so twisted, so lost, so racked with passion that it feels like it’s about to explode inside of me. My eyes center on this man’s chest as he becomes more forceful and my body begins sliding across the surface of the object I’m on. Realization hits me. It doesn’t matter what my heart was telling me because no I know this man is not Damien.
Damien has a tiny scar just below his left shoulder blade. This man doesn’t. Damien has a small patch of hair along his breast bone. This man’s chest is soft and smooth and the only hair he has is a happy trail down the length of his stomach.
He hunches over me, clinging to me, breathing into my ear, pressing his lips to mine. And thrusting and thrusting and thrusting. There’s a huge debate sounding off inside of my head. Part of me keeps wondering what the hell I’m doing. A voice keeps hissing at me, How could you do this to Damien? He’d never do this to you. But there’s another bigger part of me that’s screaming, don’t fight it. Let go. If this was wrong it wouldn’t feel so right.
The man on top of me grunts out my name with another deep thrust and I gasp out in a highpitched voice as I dig my nails into his back. Suddenly I feel like I’m hovering over a deep ravine, looking down, trying to locate the bottom. Someone pushes me. I fall. My limbs flail. Waves of fear slosh around in my belly. At the same time a free, liberating feeling whips through me and even though I’m plummeting downward faster and faster I feel like I’m being thrust upward. I feel like I’m flying.
The man I’m screwing in this wet dream of mine gives one final thrust before heaping over on top of me. Our chests rise together as we steady our breathing. Something about everything that just happened makes me feel complete. Like somewhere deep down inside of me I get the gut feeling that I know this man and that maybe I was supposed to be making love to him.
But what about Damien?
I promised myself that I’d love him forever. That I’d let him keep my heart. I promised him no other man would ever make me feel the way he does. And here is this stranger, who has so many familiarities. A man I swear that I feel connected to somehow.
“I love you, Adelaide,” he murmurs as he picks himself up off me and smoothes my damp hair away from my forehead.
If he loves me, I must know him. For God’s
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