I woke up alone. We'd only been together for a few months, but I
found I could miss him rather quickly in the cold dark of night. He was
becoming a writer, possessing a kind of violent brilliant that stunned
me every time I read one of his pieces. Seeing him put such astonishing
thoughts on paper seemed incredible, like some sort of magic.
He
worked at night, when the mood or the inspiration struck him, and he
slipped from my bed to answer the urge to create magnificent things
about dragons and sorcerers and elves. I usually lay in bed while he
worked, listening to the quiet clicking of the keys as he wrote. Then I
would welcome him back into my bed when the words had gone dry and he
fell exhausted against the pillow.
Tonight I was restless,
full of dark and brooding energy. I stepped from the bed and went to
the window, looked out over the snarling city toward the smug, fattened
moon. I folded my arms across my chest, enjoying the smooth satin of my
short nightgown as it shifted against my cool skin, shivering a little
as the lace at the edges of the low cut neck nipped at my arms and
pressed against my breasts.
Tonight I missed him badly. We'd both
been busy at our day jobs, hadn't really spent all that much time
together in almost a week. I watched the traffic in the street under the
window, wanting him badly, the channel between my thighs aching for
him. I slid my hand slowly over the slick, creamy satin and cupped
myself, pressed my palm against my vulva until I could feel the solidity
of my pubic bone behind the soft flesh, feet the heat of my need
burning me through the cloth. I cupped and squeezed my left breast with
my other hand, pinched the hardened, tingling nipple and tugged at it as
he liked to do. I bit my lip, beginning to breathe hard, almost
desperate for him now. To hell with his work, I wanted him, and badly.
I
padded barefoot down the hall, and then paused for a moment inside the
doorway to his office. He was a breathtaking sight, six feet of lean man
hunched determinedly over a keyboard, his dark hair tousled and wearing
only dark blue boxers and thin, silver rimmed glasses. I grinned to
myself; seeing him in his glasses makes my mouth water, and he only
wears them very seldom. I felt a quicksilver flash of mischief, a sudden
urge to break his control and concentration, distract the hell out of
him.
I stepped silently across the carpet at his back, but
I needn't have bothered to be quiet. He never notices anything when
he's working, even me. I approached his chair, a really oversized wooden
one with a hard back, and then slipped into it behind him, pressing
myself against his back. He jumped, turned his head to the side.
"What-" he started.
I
covered his mouth with my hand and leaned forward, bringing my mouth to
his ear. "Don't mind me, baby, just go ahead with what you were doing."
He
frowned, and then grasped my wrist, pulled my hand down gently. "I'll
be done in a few minutes," he said, and smiled at me. "Then I'll come to
bed."
I returned his smile, wrapping my arms around his chest. "I'll wait."
He
nodded absently, already thinking about his book again. I smiled,
watching him turn back to the screen and begin to type. I waited a
moment, pressed against his back, breathing slowly and deeply, feeling
his own chest expand and contract inside my embrace. I tucked my chin
over his shoulder, watching his fingers on the keys. Then I slowly slid
my hands down to the waistband of his boxers.
His breath caught,
then returned to normal, either suspecting nothing, or too preoccupied
to care. I ran the tip of my tongue up the center of the back of his
neck, and smiled as I felt him shiver slightly. I slipped my hands into
the fold of his shorts, and idly stroked his rapidly hardening cock with
my thumbs. I heard his fingers stop on the keys for just a moment
before the soft clicking began again. I wrapped a single finger around
him, just under the head, squeezed slightly, moving the circle slightly
up and down, ever so slowly. He shuddered against me. I grinned to
myself, as he turned around lifted me up and took the stairs two at a
time to our room.
this was written by a VERY
shy friend and he begged me to not put up his name. pls vote, comment
and prove to him that he has nothing to hide.
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