(Just the beginning of a fantasy of an already true-ish story. more to come when i have the time. check out my other stories if you like this one. (: I’m going for a softer approach this time. )

I have come so far for this. When I finally reach the building I consider turning back. This thought is fleeting, like the cool and collected raise of an eyebrow. It really only lasted the ammount of time it would take to work those muscles and arrange your face in such a way. By the time I had opened the heavy glass door and entered into the carpeted lobby-esque space I was cured of it. Like some unnameable illness of emotion that was so fleeting could keep me from you! Not even gigantic risks could do such a thing as impossible as that. I survey the space for a moment, the peppery coloured flooring and blank walls. I am not seeing them, I am picturing your face. I want to remember how it looks when you open the door and see me there. I can see it already, the way your eyes widen in delight and your nostrils shrink with the intake of air. This thought brings me thoughtlessly to the elevator. But upon entering the staid atmosphere within the closed box I can picture nothing else besides the naughty things we would do if trapped within it. The way the repairmen might find us, all in disarray and smelling of sex…

Eventually I reach my destination 4 floors up. Pausing at the heavy wooden door, I collect my senses and bring a pale fist up to knock. I can hear you moving around on the other side of the walls. I tilt my head to the side in contemplation and consider what it was that I’ve interrupted you from, but before I am able to come to a solid conclusion you’re there. We’re staring at each other. For a moment, neither of us has anything to say and then you remember that you have a voice. “Hey!” the greeting I might’ve offered is lost in the hug you pull me into, my face crushed against your bony chest. I don’t mind in the slightest and inhale the scent I’ve missed so much. We stand like that for several moments, smiling and giggling like the school children I mill about with for the majority of my day. I wouldn’t consider myself one of them. Though I have no negative merits, most avoid me like the plauge. So instead of teams or clubs, here I am. Here. In your arms. Always, this was where I had wanted to be. And now that I had it whenever I wished… nothing made me happier.
You rush me inside, and we spill idle chit-chat about our days over the clean air of your immaculate kitchen. You compliment my hair, or tell me I’m beautiful. That you missed me. The pet names you are so fond of slip off your lips and I feel like I’m home. “Baby” “Cutie” “Sex Kitten” “Hun” “Lover” all of them, somehow. All in a space as small as ten minutes. Food is offered, drinks. I don’t care for any of it, I’ve missed you.

I have spent this time surveying the canvas I had to leave behind, that blank space of handsome beauty so solely belonging to me. The prominent curve of your nose, the hollow at the base of your neck. Those ears. Those hands. The way your adams apple bobs when you speak. I admire your neck for a moment, you’ve shaved. I know it’s just for me. I can still see the outlines of the hickeys I’d left there the last time we’d seen each other. “What, are you marking me?” you had asked, laughing. “Yes.” I’d replied with gusto, my seriousness displaying the passion we shared. “So everyone will know who you belong to.”
I bite my lip in anticipation, remembering. After such a recollection I can’t handle the fact that my body is not fitted to yours and cross the small space between us. Lovingly, I trace my fingertips across your torso. “What are you doing?” I don’t have to answer, just grin and flash that look I know that you love and stand upon tiptoes to reach your mouth with a kiss.
We are locked like this for I don’t know how long. Touching, hands sliding against the rough fabrics we cover our tender souls with and beneath it. Intakes of breath and goosebumps when skin collides and tongues are at war with eachother. This has always been the most beautiful thing about us, and I am not ashamed of that fact. If nothing else, our bodies were made to recognize eachother. Your heart is beating. I can hear the fire pumping through your very veins. I’ve been waiting for so long… You bring your rough palms to the skin at my hips and tease me. Rubbing against the waistband of my jeans but not allowing your fingers to venture in as I wished they would. I mumble unintelligably into our kiss and you break it to nibble at the sensitive skin at my ear. This illicits a moan from me, my knees buckling from the build-up of several weeks and I have to back up to lean against the counter. Your strong arms lift me up onto the counter itself, and for a moment you survey the creature you’ve created.

Here I am, all red curls and kiss swollen lips. My brown eyes are lined with black as you sometimes like, the heat from our bodies and the sweat it produced having made the once perfect lines smudge a bit. My shirt is displaying a fair ammount of freckled and mostly flat stomach from the way you are constantly tiptoeing warm hands up towards my breasts…
but of course, I have to wait. Somehow I am always waiting for you.

Impatient, I grip your shirt and pull you back to me. My legs are spread and you fit there. If the counter was less tall this would work perfectly. Though we had tried it once, it wasn’t quite right and we’d ended up like animals on the floor, a mess of sticky icing and our own natural solutions to lubricant. I pull at your shirt. Tug at the fabric like an animal, or a woman possessed. You consent and lift it over your head, along with the wifebeater you wore beneath it. I keep my lips away for a moment, licking them as I gaze at the merchandise I have paid for emotionally a hundred times over. “I have missed you. Please, please just give it to me. Take me like you know I like it.” Our eyes are locked together in the most intimate of connections, and you nod silently, lift me up like a baby, or bride. “You’ve missed my big cock, huh? Is your little pussy just drenched waiting for it?” “Babe, you’ve got no idea. I’m surprised the wetness hasn’t leaked through my pants as well because I know my panties are sopping…” I can feel your hardness jump at my words and smirk. I have always had this power of you. And now that we have a chance to be together, I cannot wait to make you shiver and have you love me like I need to be loved.

---