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He had watched as she showered. Every moment of it. He still wasn't sure what called him here or from where he was called into being, but there was a lag of what he perceived as time between these moments they "shared" was his feeling. She was as beautiful wet as she was in each of the scenes they had shared. He saw the water fall across her skin, running down with the pace of gravity. Some water would pool in her hands, as she moved them over her skin, then drench her in its release. Her hands caressed and cleaned, her fingers moving from sight around the natural curves and between limbs and torso. Arm pits, thighs, cheeks. He wanted so badly to soap his hands and wash them across her neck and shoulders. So badly.
The view he had would come and go in the fog of steamed glass, but as if she knew or wanted to believe so, she angled the shower head to the glass to revive his view. She had bent as she washed soap off her legs and her bum pressed against the glass. This is when he had touched himself for the first time since they had been as together as they were.
She got out of the shower and shivered loudly, he'd not noticed the chill in the air of the evening until then, though naked he had not felt anything other than the warmth she brought. He watched as she wrapped herself in a too small towel, her nipples pressed beneath the fabric. He looked at then in the steamed up mirror, seeing them together as outlines in the mist. She whispered "is it you?" into the mirror and he froze. Could she see him today, or was this something else? She reached her hand to the glass, but he never saw her flesh press against the mirror. His vision grew bright, into white as it had before.
***
His focus returned to the room. She stood before him nude. The sight was beautiful. Her breasts dared him, in their poise, erectness and similarity, to touch. He reached out, hoping, and pressed a thumb to her left nipple. He felt it, hard beneath his touch. She let out a sweet breath, words lost in it forever. He placed his entire hand over the same tit. Feeling it weight as he squeezed and manipulated the fresh, her nipple grinding into his palm. She lent back against the sink, her buttocks pressed into the top of it as she curved her spine back, head thrown. Her groin presented towards him, pressed into him, aching for touch.
He stepped back to take in the full image of her desire for him. Each a stranger until so recently. Neither with any idea as to why the other had arrived. But in this moment that was merely a passing notion. He knelt slowly, his eyes panning down her torso from her tits to her toes, then his focus pulled and returned on her pubic mound. She was presenting towards him still. He could see the slit of her vulva, her labia unfolded in arousal. He eased his face forwards slowly, hoping his breath was felt on her soft wet skin. The goose flesh grew across her thighs and tummy in response to this thought. He inhaled deeply. She smelt clean, but there was a hint of lust, the musk of the natural wetness of arousal.
The tip of his nose accidentally touched her, sending a ripple of electric energy through her clit. He pulled back slightly as she reached for his head to push him back, but her hand only found her pouting lips. He watched as her fingers slipped effortlessly between them before she withdrew her hand to steady herself against the sink. He moved into the space left by her seeking hand and kissed her slit. He added a bit more pressure as he slipped his tongue inside her pussy as he would her mouth. He kissed her deeply like this, making out with her sex as she pushed forward eager for his mouth.
***
I taste you for the very first time, lost in the scent and flavours of you, it takes a moment before I realise your hand has found the back of my head. Your fingers there, moving in an exploratory way, feeling out the territory. I take my mouth from you and look up to see you look at me, into me, through me. Your expression falling into confusion as I fade. You look into your hand as you raise it back towards your face. I feel like sand falling through your fingers. But you were there, on my flesh a moment ago. You rest your hand back onto the sink and rest your head back. Eyes closed though out of my sight line for now. I look towards your glistening, wet lips, your clit so pink and swollen still. I cannot resist. I pucker my lips and suck on your clitoral bud. Licking gently with the tip of my tongue. I hear a deep moan coming from you, almost animalistic in its urgency. I carry on as I was but I slip my under finger up inside you.
My finger enters you with lubricated ease. My recent pressure has brought a wave of wet pleasure within you. I move as one, my finger, mouth and tongue. Tasting, smelling, feeling you deeply. I curve my finger towards me, building a little pressure as I seek out the sensitive internal spot, I feel the slightly rough texture beneath my finger tip and feel your muscles clench around me and your body tense above my. The hand I have on your bum feels the cheeks pull together as you close in on your climax.
I feel you relax slightly and exhale a moan of "don't stop, please don't stop" your wetness runs down my finger, pooling on the curve of my palm. I find my motion, my synchronicity again. Finger, mouth and tongue working in harmony towards your pleasure, our desire. My left hand squeezes your buttock, the split in your cheeks warm to the tips of my touch. Your hand returns to my head now, adding a little more pressure to my orchestration. Conduct me, I think into your pussy. You grind yourself into my mouth, my beard soaking wet with you. Marked territorially i think to myself and smile. You grind and gasp, the walls of your vagina grip my finger and your thighs grip my skull. I circle your clit with my tongue and press your internal spot simultaneously and hear you gasp aloud "I'm coming" a beat then "oh fuck, I'm coming!" the first twitch comes with a flood of wetness, each subsequent spasm is uncontrollably as you have fully surrendered to this pleasure. I'm gripped in the vice of thighs, merely an instrument now, one of lust and feral desire.
I lean back and look up at you. I catch your eyes as they open. Still reeling from your orgasmic release I feel that you see me briefly, I smile at the knowledge of what we just shared. I smile as your expression changes to frustration and confusion as I feel the bright light swallow me again. I fade into white my reality fading into nothing. As I fade I only hope that whatever the alchemy is that pulls me to you is not too far from visiting us again. I need the glimpse itself and whatever more is the blissful lining of the clouds of desire that have gathered us together.
***
I wake up warm and hard. My bedding is in a fairly unusually messy state. I must've had a restless one, I think as I stir into the morning. It's around now that I notice how hard I am beneath the sheets. This happens still, but it's been a while since I have woken up in this state of erection. A dream seeps back into my mind, but it feels like more. I feel I'm remembering rather than recalling. I grip my cock to feel exactly how hard I am and nod approvingly.
I shower now, recalling again the images of her. I feel in can summon up her clean freshly showered scents, the way they changes to the scent of her natural lust as she was turned on by this situation I'd found myself "dreaming of"? I wash slowly, growing hard again as I think of her. The temptation to masturbate is very strong, but I'm really enjoying the strength of these erections her memory is enticing in me. I towel off and dress for the day hoping it will be liberally filled with these flashes back to her.
She lays before him, asleep. If this image were real would it look so perfect. He glances around her room looking for imperfections, something real to anchor the truth of this moment. Nothing, no discarded underwear, used dish or tissue. He was struck by the power socket by her dressing table. European? No, American he thought. How the heck am I in the states? He wondered which. She stirred him back to her. Had she spoken to him?
"I've missed your instruction"
She spoke aloud, breathily, he watched her hands as they wandered lightly across her naked skin. She was partially covered, but he could see her breasts, her hard pink nipples and her thighs almost to the slit of her sex. As he closed in on her she squirmed and pressed her right nipples between her fingers. A gasp and the fluid movement of legs parting exposed her fully to him. He settled on a decision unlike him. He crossed the rest of the room and placed the tip of his right index finger against her pink, swollen clitoris. His touch moved downward, easily slipping between her labia. Her wetness was there for him, he knew. She knew. He gasped at how much this turned him on. She gasped at how much this turned him on. He moved his now wet finger tip back to her clit and circled it with increasing pressure.
I close my eyes to return to the moment. When I open them I'm back in the shop. Back at work. "Are you okay?" Asked my colleague. "Yeah, I'm grand thanks, just a moment of dizziness there for a second." I said hoping that was the outward vibe I'd been giving as I'd left, or drifted, or whatever I'd done just then. Why? Where? I felt that I was hard again as I flustered my way back into work mode. This made me smile. I casually touched my nose with the index finger of my right hand. Was that really her I could sense there? I doubted my sense of smell in that moment as you can't bring a scent out of a dream. Can you? Was that a dream I'd just had? It felt the same as last night's had, but here he was upright at work in Scotland. Admittedly with a hard dick.
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