A Day Dream

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A romance story.
885 words
2.73
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You went to a party today. I was so glad to find you'd shared your day with me through a photo of the surroundings. At the bottom of the screen, I could see you there, your legs slightly spread, relaxed on a couch. I couldn't help but go where my thoughts took me.

When I saw your legs, I couldn't help but want to be between them.

Kneeling on the floor in front of you, looking up at you coyly, playfully, smiling knowingly. Slowly inching my fingertips up your legs until I reached your knees, tracing them with a light touch before pushing them apart so I could get closer to you, feel you when I lean against you; press myself against you until I was satisfied with your reaction; until I could feel you swell under my breast. Slowly rising up, my hands would firmly but slowly glide up your pants legs until I could make you squirm or flush. Oh, I'm sure I'd flush too, shades of red and pink spreading slowly up my chest, neck, and into my face. My skin would prick in anticipation, my pupils dilate in excitement, lips would part, wet with bated, heavy breath. I'd smile shamelessly, invitingly until I could feel you give in to me; until you wordlessly called me. The edges of your expression softening, a smile beckoning me.

I'd take the short climb up slowly, purposefully. Deftly, I'd slip my hands out from under the hem of your pants and place them on your clothed thighs, giving myself the leverage to stand up easily before pushing your knees together with my own, placing one knee on the sofa next to you. Leaning forward ever so slightly, I'd grab your hand and softly trace it, exploring each crevice, bend, knuckle, tip with my own fingers. Pulling it up to my lips, I'd kiss each tip before parting lips sucked a finger into wet warmth, letting my tongue play over the length. Giving a small smile, I'd bite down lightly before removing your finger, guiding your hand to lay against my hip - an open invitation to touch wherever you'd like.

I want you to lightly trace my outline with your large, comforting hands, exploring each place with a small and purposeful probe here and there. Your fingers would travel down to my mid thigh, hooking the hem of my dress, lifting it slightly as your hands slide underneath, skin meeting skin. Each touch would leave a small kiss of fire wherever you touched, making my breath catch, my eyes flutter. Moving over my hips, your hands would rest on my ass, gripping firmly before pulling me closer. I'd reach out, placing my hands flat against your chest, leaning my weight into you, letting my hair fall around my shoulders and face, looking down at you through half lidded eyes. I'd bring my other leg onto the other side of the sofa to straddle you.

Wanting to build the tension, I'd hover for a moment, feeling the tension grow in your body, gliding my hands up over your shoulders, around your neck, into your hair, grabbing a fistful, before leaning in close to your ear, letting my lips brush against the flesh. Your hands snake up my back, making me shudder against you. Loosening my grip, I'd keep a soft hold on you as I lean back, biting my lip as I tried to maintain eye contact while I slowly leaned back, down. A soft breathy moan would escape my lips and my eyes would flutter shut as I sat down in your lap, feeling your arousal press against mine. My fingernails would dig into your flesh as I lowered my face to your neck, resting my forehead against your collar, biting my lip to keep quiet. Your hands release their hold on my flesh, leaving me momentarily cold, wanting. Deftly, you raise my face to yours, looking me in the eyes for a moment. I give a slight nod, my head fuzzy, and heavy.

Surprisingly deft hands push the dress off my shoulders, letting it pool around my hips in our lap. I go to say something, "I...," I swallow hard, trying to clear my throat before trying again. "I..." You freeze, waiting for my response, patient. Looking down, I start to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. A small shiver comes over me as I try to put together what it is I want to say. You sense my hesitation and gentle hands cup my face, your voice uttering my name pulls my eyes up to yours.

"Tell me." I swallow the lump in my throat again. "I..." My eyes search your face frantically. The gentle hands turn a little hard, burying into my hair, gripping a fistful of hair. You pull me forward, pressing my neck against your lips. I shudder as a small sound escapes my lips. I part them, running my tongue across them, trying to say what I want.

"Tell me." I can hear your voice as well as feel it against my skin - deep, demanding. My heart flutters and my stomach tightens into a knot. I swallow hard again.

My voice finally escapes, breathy, cracked, "I want you."

You smile against my throat, pulling me in closer.

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3 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago

Ignore the Anon above. Sometimes little boys aren't very good at acknowledging that some things in life aren't about and for them and only them. It's good, keep up the good work! Looking forward to more.

RebeccaRobertsRebeccaRobertsover 6 years ago
Gorgeous

Love it. Love day dreams xxxx

AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago

No I didn't go to a party, why the hell do so many of you insist on writing this way? 1*

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