Sky. Again.

Imma be doing a sequel to this. So i thought I should remind y'all of this. Part 2 this week. :|

The wetness in her thigh’s felt as if it reached her knees.

It wasn’t just another night with another boy. He’d watched him from a distance all night long. She’d picked him. He didn’t pick her. Good as hell. Other nights, she was busy warding off penetrating gazes from lustful guys to even concentrate on a glass of tequila.

This, she’d set up herself. She picked the characters, herself, and him. She wanted it to be her script. Her movie.

She’d watched him sleep. While the heat welled up in her thighs, again and again. She’d sighed so loudly, he woke with a start. Lazily, wordlessly, He cupped her face in his arms, and kissed just below her jaw. Not sure if she was moaning or sighing, she threw her head back, eyes closed and fought desperately to take control. Just that effort made her break out into a sweat. As he traced out a pattern down from her throat to in between her breasts, she felt his finger on a vein on her neck. She felt that pulse pick up. The touch from his tongue was so fucking light, she almost pressed her body against his tongue. He never really went straight for her nipples, like most men do, he merely skirted around it, almost teasing, almost annoying. Flirting.

Tempting. Enticing.

Placing her arm around his neck, she willed him to take active control. She’d shaved the day before, and her hairs were just a bit prickly. That same touch from his fingers. Gosh. The hairs seemed to stand as if they had a mind of their own. She could not take it anymore. She wanted him to fuck her. Hard. But she had too much pride. Too much self-control. Too much power. A confusion of thoughts devoured her as surely as his mouth now devoured a\her already alight center. Wrapping her thigh’s around his head, her head turned to the left. Clutching the sheets, her back arched. She was loosing it…

What was she doing?

She was staring at a road with an obvious dead end, wasted energy she could be expending on another potential, on another road that might just lead her to the tip of the galaxy, but instead she’s enjoying one of the many temptations she so desperately denied. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t moan. She tried to let off a sound, but she couldn’t.

She opened her eyes, and discovered she was blind. Noiselessly she came. Flooding all over the place. Thighs twitching. Fingers digging into her mattress. Tearing out her brains. Simple head, yet so thunderous. She collapsed into the bed, feeling weightless. Placing a hand over her left breast, he lay beside her.

Didn’t he ever talk?

She longed for him to say something. Just as eagerly as she yearned for the other guys to shut their fucking traps. She longed for him to fuck her. Forever. But her pride. She sighed. She was hungry.

I’ll carry you.

He carried her, naked, into her kitchen. Strong, but thin and wiry. The kitchen cabinet was cold against her ass. Her thighs, still warm and moist. He stared at herin the darkness for a brief moment, and kissed her shoulder. Entwining her legs, and using her hand to cover her still naked body, she watched as he buttered slices of bread. She watched his still doped out half-closed eyes. As she continued to watch him, remembering all the things that had made him attractive in the first place, She imagined walking through a field of pleasant nostalgic daisy's, all representing the memories she featured in. In her mind, she’d pick one up, and begin to pull of the petals. But before her finger even touches the first one they all blow away, the truth is undeniable. It wasn’t ever real. She could go on and on.

She reached into her drawer and began to roll up.

Do you smoke? He smiled. Jah Motherfucking Bless. As if she needed to ask.

He stared non-chalantly into the darkness, placing his free hand around her neck while she drew in the smoke. Reaching for her ever growing hair, drawing and straightening her now tousled hair. She fed on each of his actions, drank on each of them, and inhaled them with the smoke.

Let’s Fuck.

He chuckled. Dropped the half eaten sandwich. Again, lifted her into his arms.

This time, she rested her jaw on his shoulder. He carried her like a doll. Tousling her nearly straightened hair. His hand was cold on her burning skin. She shuddered. Stealing a glance at the ever retreating city, She thought:

Excuse me world, while I touch the sky.

------ P.S. Its Me, Who Knows You So Well.