Thoughts After Dusk

Wild Dreamers

A/N:

Okay, this ones written from a third persons point of view (the eyes of a character) I wrote it as part of a book however scrapped the book concept.

We say we're just friends, but it's been a long time coming:

I'd like to blame the oxytocin in my system, for my reckless actions or he forward approach but a small part of me loves the way it all happened.

Most people would call me a nymphomaniac or a sex addict, not meaning I'm addicted to it but addicted to writing about it. However, in all honesty I think it's just the oxytocin overflowing in my bloodstream.

Laying on my bed, I can't stop my mind from thinking about that moment in time.

Lips crashing into mine, my breath caught in my throat. As my hands trail his sculptured body, one hand resting on the nape of his neck. Slowly trailing into his hair pulling slightly at it. Gripping him in urgency, as his hands wrap around my waist, tracing up and down. As if he is burning every part of me and my body into his mind.

His lips envelope mine in a fight for dominance as my tongue trances his lower lip. He opens his mouth for me to taste him drowning deeper into his dangerous lips and touches.

My hands make there way to the front of his half open shirt, as he picks me up. My legs wrapping around his torso. I feel us moving but it feels like an after thought, my body and mind to wrapped up with the taste of him.

I break the kiss, I feel as though he's not just stealing all the air from my lungs but also small pieces of my soul, it's the sweetest poison.

"Wait". My breathing sounds raggedy.

He doesn't stop his actions, as if his hunger for me is over powering his rational mind, until I move his face away from my own. His blue eyes, they now look a shade darker.

"What? What's wrong? Do you want me to stop?". His words sound sincere, however his eyes.
Those eyes that convince me to do almost anything, they tell me the last part of his words, he doesn't want them to be the case. He doesn't want to stop this, deep down neither do I.

"No, I...".

What is it that I want?

All I know is I don't want this to stop, his eyes search mine, holding concern. That's when I decide and I push my worries to the back of my mind.

I hook his lips with my own, sensually. We set the pace, in accordance to what I need. Although I can feel him losing his grip, it shows through his touches, his hands grip the nape of my neck. To give him better access to me, so he can taste and take control of the kiss.

My back hits a wall, as the kiss deepens, my actions mirroring his earlier ones. He responds to my kisses and touches with the same amount of want.

I unhook myself from his body, the cool floor is a complete contract to the fire burning in me. I pull away from him, taking his hand in my own. I walk away from the living room, into the bedroom.

If we're doing this, we're doing right.

Halfway there, he picks me up and carries me into the bedroom. Putting my down at the doorway. We both look at each other, fully aware that if we go through with this. There's no going back and there's no holding back.

His eyes look from my eyes, to my swollen lips, before his eyes trail the rest of me. A small grin playing on his lips the whole time. I'm sure my hair looks like an absolute mess from what had happened earlier.

I couldn't take it, the tension building in the air was becoming to much. Taking initiative I grip the collar of his shirt and pull him into me closing the gap, that's between him and I.

"As good as it feels to have your eyes undressing me, I'd prefer if your lips did that". I breathe, I can't exactly say what caused me to gulp in anticipation, the fact that I could feel his body pressure on mine, that I was pinned up against the door way within seconds or the look in his eyes.

"Let's stop wasting anymore time, then". He says to me, before picking me up. Kissing me passionately while walking over to the bed and dropping me. I sqeaul in surprise at his actions.

I prop myself on my elbows as I watch his every move, from his shirt to his trousers. I watch him undress, it's a little enticing like a front row seat to the best and most explicit show in town.

Once he is undressed, looking mildly dissatisfied that I have more clothing on in comparison. Without either of us speaking I already know what he wants, so I keep my movements slow and sensual.

Removing every article of clothing from my body until we both are in our undergarments.

I see something flash across his face, like a switch has just flipped in his mind. The next thing I know my head hits the pillows as his mouth devours mine in a fit of unbridled passion. His actions cause my very own awakening, and I flip us over so I'm now on top.

Call it my dominating behaviour or a sexual power trip. Honestly, call it whatever you want too. I want to be the one in control of what happens here, to know that every move made was on my own accord. Theres something so addictive about control not just in a power position or in a bed. In general, I crave it in my daily life, the need of knowing or the knowledge that I call the shots, sometimes the pull of that feeling is stronger than anything else.

He strokes my cheek, a gentle action amidst the primal tone between us. It warms my body with another feeling, one of happiness. The knowledge that he can be gentle and sweet while being a dominant.

I kiss him slowly before taking both his hands and instructing him to not move them away from the headboard. My lips trail his jawline down to his neck, occasionally sucking and nipping at his skin. Continue my work my lips travelling south on his body as he groans in pleasure. My fingertips trace is tattoos, following the pattern of ink painted on his skin until the patterns disappear under his boxers.

The more I touch and tease him the responsive he becomes. My fingers trail cross the waistband of his boxers and he tries to elevate his hips as if to get so type of friction going. I can feel his length stiffening beneath me, our centres touching, both only covered by a small piece of fabric.
The built up pressure is to much for me to handle, I finally give into his pleas.

Unclasping my bra, I watch his reaction as he watches me drop it.
He mouth opens as if he wants to say something, but before he can speak I move my hips, causing us both to feel eminence pleasure and I already know that just the tip of the iceberg.

Sex is a wonderful experience, if you know what you're doing but the build up and foreplay before execution is just as important. I need to have him on the edge of climax before letting the waves of pleasure come crashing down onto him.

He groans in need, instead of speaking. I like seeing him at a loss for words. I repeat my actions, which in turn is making me feel pleasure in sync with him.

"Please, please". He chants, his begging makes me feel more needy.

I stop all my actions and get off him. I hear him groan in disbelief at my actions. I can tell he's almost over the role reversals.

"Move and this is done". I say in a definite manner, while pointing between the two of us. He already knows I amm not someone to test, all our years of friendship, he knows it's not pretty when someone doesn't listen. I continue staring at him while talking, although I know I'm bluffing I can't stop.

He groans, but doesn't move. I remove the reminder of fabric on my skin. Climbing, back on the bed I remove his underwear. I look at him, eyes closed, mouth open taking in shaky breaths.

I work my way up his body, my lips and hands trailing every inche of his skin.

....

Someone calling my name repeatedly, wakes me. I sigh, in annoyance. Why am I dreaming about it again.