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Alt 18.05.2005, 23:26   #1
BlackTulip
 
Dabei seit: 05/2005
Beiträge: 4

Standard Listen ( English)

Listen

Lying in the dark, the morning red shield off by the black and purple velvet curtains. Him beside me. A feeling beyond description. It’s longing revealed in his warm breath on my chest- slow and deep. His weight delicious against my chest. I held him last night, wrapped my arms around his shoulder and neck, the richness of his long black dreads fanning out behind him- nightmares leave him be, give him peace, for one night.

Jonathan never sleeps.

Still groggy I open my eyes, thank God for the silence, but my limbs feel numb and I can’t move my legs.

Do I really want to?

I’m remembering last night, when we went to bed together, his words a slow whisper that could almost have been a moan in my ear:

“Do you love me, baby?”

“Now and forever.”

I want to turn my head so I can watch him, this dark angel, this burnt child, my crimson knight. But I don’t move lest I wake him and spoil this dream.
Do I really deserve this?

Suddenly I feel his leg twitch beneath the covers, he’s waking up. A quiet yawn escapes him and his slight shift in the bed conjures up his perfume anew.

Is it humanly possible to love the smell of your loved one as much as I do?

I could survive on it alone.

He shifts onto his right elbow, his left hand goes up to his eyes, sleepy-head has sand in his eyes and he whispers:

”Good morning.”

My eyes are closed, he must think that I’m sleeping.
I still can’t move my limbs but I try not to pay attention to it. My mind is on him now the warm palm of his hand on my forehead, caressing my cheek.

“ Baby, you’re cold!”, he says in a hush.

I can all but see the evil little smirk forming on his face through my closed eyelids at his words: “Let’s get you warmed up then.”

He dives under the covers and goes to massage the sols of my feet, naturally cold, women’s blood always is.

Sliding his hands over my calves he kisses my ankles, his touch nothing short of electric.

The touch of his fingertips sending slow pulsing shocks through my body, my heart races, yet I still can’t move.

And yet I am about to burst, his hands lightly tracing circles around my knees, caressing my thighs, my sex. My mind is screaming: “Take me, fill me, I’m yours. Take it!” and I say nothing.

I see him through closed eyelids parting my thighs gently, sliding my thong to my ankles in one seductively slow movement of his hand, I hear him sighing, his breathing growing heavier and warmer against me.

I shudder at this and let out a deep sigh, but it’s so quiet you couldn’t hear it.

I didn’t hear it.

“So warm, so wet, even when you’re sleeping.” he whimpers under his breath.

But I’m not sleeping…I’m not sleeping.

So why don’t I move? Why doesn’t my body react to the feel of his tongue running along my inner thighs, moist and delicious to me, his well-bitten fingernails scraping my behind, something that drives me crazy, that sends tingles up my entire body, I should be moaning but I’m not.

A quiet panic stings my heart, what is going on with me?

But the fear that threatened to surface is defeated by the slow, wet swipe of his tongue over my slit, parting its lips and diving into me.

My mind cries out in pleasure, a great flush engulfing my body. He’s licking me. Hard.

And the thunder in my gut is threatening to erupt like a volcano, ripping me apart in the process. Without any further torture or another word, he lines his by now throbbing erection with my sex and enters in an agonizingly slow pace.

“God, you are so tight, it’s …going to…kill… me.”, Jon groans, his head next to mine, black dreads spilling onto my chest, not looking at me, panting into my ear, his moans giving into deep growls as his thrusting grows faster, deeper.

I feel him, I feel him.. But I can’t feel myself.
Jon, something’s wrong.

Jon. Listen to me, I can’t move, I can’t fucking move.
Panic gives in to tears, I’m about to cry, he isn’t listening to me, then again I realize……

I didn’t move my lips, much less hear my voice out loud. I can’t speak. I can’t move.

His growl’s becoming louder, he’s nearly there, about to burst inside of me, can’t hold on much longer. His hands clutching two fists-full of the covers, and I am screaming.

Jon?! JON!

In an agonizingly low moan he releases.. his orgasm seemingly endless fills me, my body shivers because he is shivering inside me. His arms give in and he collapses onto my chest, heaving, sighing, oblivious to the fact that the sudden pressure of his fall forces my eyes open.

And yet I can’t see.

I …can’t…see ….a thing.

What is happening to me? What is wrong me?

“Can’t believe I didn’t wake you up, baby.”, he sweetly whispers into my ear and nips at my earlobe, grazing it with his teeth. With long lean fingers he caresses my cheeks, my forehead, touches my mouth, and after a long while of watching me sunken in his own dreams, his vision only gradually coming back to him he understands…..something.

“Aisha? Baby, I thought you were asleep.”

My eyes are open.

But I can’t answer, my lips won’t move, words don’t form, I can’t breath, I can’t think, why doesn’t he see?

His face goes blank.

“ Oh my God” he gasps, his hand involuntarily snapping to his face to cover his mouth, his shock as he sees the truth . He’s whimpering.

“Baby,….ba…say…something…”.

He’s shaking me, but he’s shaking, too.

Jon, my eyes are open, what are you denying?

He’s screaming, he’s screaming like his life depended on it, he backs off , fast, off of the bed, linens falling to the ground with him on his back, his hands shaking, still backing off, standing there, weeping, staring at me.

“Noo!” a loud growl escaping him at the sight of me. Like his legs would give in from under him he stumbles into the wall behind him, slamming into the corner, sliding onto the floor his arms wrapped around his knees bawling and screaming like a child.

God, it’s your fault. I love you but why didn’t you listen?
Jon?

I was trying to tell you! Why did you have to not see it?

How could you do this to yourself?

Why didn’t you listen?

Why the FUCK didn’t you LISTEN…

Goddamn it, Jonathan, I am dead………
BlackTulip ist offline   Mit Zitat antworten
Alt 18.05.2005, 23:59   #2
Soulchild
 
Dabei seit: 05/2005
Beiträge: 38

Hey Black Tulip,
ich habe die Geschichte ja schonmal gelesen und jetzt wieder... es tut beim zweiten Mal genauso in der Seele weh wie beim Ersten!

Aber ich bin wirklich beeindruckt von dieser Geschichte!
Da hast du ganze Arbeit geleistet!

lg
Soulchild
Soulchild ist offline   Mit Zitat antworten
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