Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2018
Another long night. The front door opens and I'm blessed by that feeling I can only get from home, where the air suddenly feels softer, the world quieter, and my thoughts on autopilot. I enter this home where everything I see is unfamiliar, but I move as though nothing is out of place. The carpet is an obscure shade of white I would never choose, and foreign knick-knacks and pictures of people with no faces hang along the walls. The rooms carry no scent, and the sound of no sound is rather ominous, but all of these things are just a passing glance. My eyes are focused on one door in the middle of the hall. I grab the **** reassuringly, despite never having touched this door, in a hall I've never seen, in a house I've never been, and I push it open.

Everything is tinted blue from the moonlight; the bed is large and there's a simple desk and computer at my leisure. I settle my things down. Nothing of particular interest crosses my mind, but alone in the dark, there's infinite space for a mind to wander. I browse the web. The night grows darker and I learn absolutely nothing that will benefit me the next day. I didn't play many games or speak to many people, but I saw you Online. We didn't speak, but nonetheless, there's a certain type of radiance you bring through the computer screen, through your eyes that carry a million secrets.

After an hour of nonsense and fumbling at the mouse, my eyes begin to grow drowsy and my senses dull, but I'm not quite ready to sleep. I stay up with my thoughts a little longer, used to ignoring the small sounds like ticks in the wall from the neighbors or rumbling in the bushes from outside, but one sound didn't sit right with me: a ruffle in the sheets from behind. I turn around, my shoulders tense, only to fall to a realization. This.. is a dream. You weren't just there, but you appear like thin air in nothing but a T-shirt and blue underwear, wearing that sly smile where no one ever really knows what you're thinking, but I'm always ninety percent sure. I stand to find that your eyes follow me sentiently, so I approach you. The most fulfilling moment is keeping you in suspense about what's on my mind, what devious things I may do to a defenseless you, though you're probably ninety percent sure.

The mattress springs creak as I enter the bed. You curl your toes and bite your lip in anticipation, visibly excited about what's to come. I move slowly. Your eyes say "take me," but your soft skin and subtle features whisper the opposite. My arms slide beneath your legs in one motion; you lay against the headboard and wait for me, patiently impatient, my face deep between your thighs and warm breaths brushing up against your skin. I can only stare, contemplating everything I want to do and every potential outcome, but your mind was probably already made up. I press my lips down.

You clench your fists, the first of many deep breaths. Your hips mindlessly shove in against me and I feel every contour beneath the fabric, every nook, every detail from top to bottom and every contraction, curling my tongue around your **** until your hips begin to spin. The heat between us rises rapidly, but nothing in this house is real.

Your sensuous moans and whimpers begin to give you away. Even through your *******, I can tease you pretty well. I continue to gnaw and nibble, stirring you up more and more as you fight to find my tongue that I pull away and only press back when you've finally given up. Frustrated, you pull your ******* in tighter. The outline of your **** becomes clear and visible enough to squeeze between my lips, over and over until it slips away once again. Lost in thought, it simply feels like we're playing, and I never want to stop.

Your ******* come off with hardly a finger, and your lovely pink lips and hole stare back at me, shimmering wet. I'm aware that I'm dreaming, so is it pathetic to continue?

..

No.

..

I unzip and come out of my jeans to show you what you've done to me, lifting you from the headboard and switching places. You fit perfectly on top. I'm now *****, throbbing hard and touching your sides as you take me and begin to lower yourself.

In my lap, within my grasp, eye to eye. What is this feeling, I wonder.

My hands slide up beneath your shirt that we don't bother taking off. Your ******* at the mercy of my touch, you come down deeper, your walls taking me in but also feel like they're pushing me out. You lift and lower yourself, up and down as I guide you with my dark hands and arms. Every fall feels deeper than the last and I haven't even stopped growing inside of you yet; I'm embarrassed, I'm biting my lip. My hands cross to your backside and grab your cheeks to pull you down harder, faster by instinct. I can feel every drop leaking out as your nails dig into my shoulders. You're beginning to tremble.. And shake.. I fight to hold you steady but your eyes can't seem to focus. You're squeezing harder.. A kiss to your hand does nothing, so I hold you in closely.. Until you pop.

We slow down. I slow down. You fall to the bed and turn to your side, and as my breathing slows, I figure it wouldn't hurt to lay with you. In fetal position, we stare into each other's souls, and though neither of us have said a word, I find myself compelled to ask..

Where have you been for so long..?
oops
S l L H
Written by
S l L H  23/M/California
(23/M/California)   
49
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems