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A Story written by RedHairedAndFriendly

9:30pm – 5:30am

His arms lifted me, my sleep laden eyes heavy with drowsiness. I try to focus on the clock. 

“The time?” I ask.

“Does it matter?”

“No,” then I mumble, “yes.”

“Just after twelve,” he whispers against my ear. 

My eyes close as I press into him, remembering the time it all started, the time we first touched. The moment when I realized it was happening, that it was for us and no one else. Nuzzling his neck, my lips place a kiss upon his skin. His fingers slide over my side as he carries me to our bed. The scent of my lover is here now; before it had been only the familiar aroma of my life, but now his scent lingers everywhere. 

I know I will smell it in my bed, my kitchen, my living room. His scent will be with me when I shower, or walk around my quaint little town. The vision of his body will be in my head, as will the feel of his skin next to mine. Looking up to him, as he places me on the bed, I see that it will happen soon. I won’t be able to control it; I won’t be able to keep him with me. Pulling his body down to lie beside mine, I hold him. 

We lie there, our bodies pressed together, his fingers stroking my hair, as his eyes concentrate on mine. No words are spoken as he rolls to his side and pulls me against him. “You need your rest,” he whispers into my hair. 

My head shakes a firm no, under his chin. His fingers slide over my hip, and he scoots himself closer to my back. Wrapping his arm around my waist, he slowly caresses my stomach. I struggle to stay awake; I concentrate on the clock, the green numbers, now the ones I hate. They scream at me. They display themselves, taunting me. My hand reaches out, and I push the clock to the floor. The sound echoes through the room. “Shh…” he whispers as the tears begin to fall. 

I try. I try desperately not to give into them, but I fail. Turning into him, I empty it all, releasing the pent-up despair of our parting, allowing the flood of anguish and frustration to consume me. His fingers run in my hair, his kisses rain down on my head. He holds me as I cry the tears I have tried so hard not to shed.

“Rest, love.” 

I hear him, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to rest. My eyes hurt. My heart burns. The will to stay awake for the final hours is great, but the body is weak, and soon my eyes close, and I do as he wished, I sleep.

“Soon,” his voice whispers in my ear.

I hear him and the word he spoke. His breath touches my ear, stirs my hair, and rubs over my skin. Rolling over, I face him, “How long?”

He looks at me and smiles, “I could tell you if you hadn’t tossed the clock on to the floor.” I growl and jab him in the stomach. “How do you think it will happen?” I ask.

“What?” his eyes full of confusion.

“How do you think you’ll leave?”

I realize that he doesn’t know. “Do you think you’ll just disappear?”

“I guess,” he sighs, “I never thought about it.”

“When you woke up, what was it like? Did you feel cold, or perhaps you were on air?”

Raising his brow he answers, “I just woke up, like I do when I am at home. Just opened my eyes and there you were and here I was in your home.”

“Do you think, if I didn’t go to sleep, you’d stay? If, perhaps, when the clock hit 5:30, and I was awake holding you, you’d still be stuck here?”

“I’m anything, but stuck. I don’t think it would work that way.” Pulling me close, his arms circle around my back. “I think it will happen, when and where, doesn’t matter, but it will just happen.”

“I guess your right,” I whisper against his chest. 

He kisses the top of my head, pats my butt, then pushes me gently, “Out of bed, you’ve had enough rest.” 

I watch as he pulls himself up and off the bed. Sighing I roll back over and find myself staring down at the floor. The ghastly green numbers laughing at me as their fiery green color scream 3:00. Lifting it from the floor, I place it gently back on the table, wanting only to throw it against the mirror, the wall, the window, any where, but I don’t.

He walks over to me and lays his hand on my shoulder. Jerking my body away from him, I shake with rage. This was not a gift, or a present, it was a curse, a mean spirited tease to us. It was forced upon us, and we lived it, only to have it ripped from our bodies. “We still have so much to do,” I tell him, as he brings my face to his. His smell intoxicates me.

“There will never be enough time.”

“I know,” my face looks up to his and I see everything, I was supposed to have but can’t. Turning away, my heart burning in my chest, my hands come up and cover my face and I feel myself jerk away from him. 

He is waiting, waiting for me. He gives me a moment to collect myself. We are both thinking the same thing, both of us suffering. I turn to him; my body, my soul, my heart, all of me throw themselves into his arms. 

Our hands move quickly flying over each others skin, touching every patch of flesh. Our lips mash and merge as our tongues drive in a heated frenzy to take what we can. His hands thrust into my hair, holding my head still as he captures my mouth. Our tongues fight a battle that we know we won’t win, but one we refuse to give up. He is over me, my legs opening for him. My back arches as he takes me, filling my body with his. He pushes deep into me as my legs wrap around him holding me him tight, refusing to allow him to escape. He pushes and kneads my flesh, pulls and twists my Tip. 

My nails rake his back, dig into his Buttocks, grasp his hips, as my s*x pushes up with his. Our grunts of heated mating are pulled from our throats. We each take what we want, increasing the tempo of our mating until with the screams of each one’s name echoing through our ears, bodies, and souls, we climax together.

Pulsating waves of pleasure soar through each of us. We both ride them as they build and fall, lifting us upon wings of eagles then spinning down to only rise once more. We hold each other tight, savoring each feeling of liquid, merging and mating with its long sought partner. 

Finally he looks at me, touches my face and kisses my lips. My fingers slide to his jaw, his eyes, his nose, capturing every feature. His light kiss on my forehead brings a smile to my face. He slides over to his side and pulls me close against him, nuzzles my neck, then pinches my Buttocks. 

“Hey!” I jab him gently in the ribs. He makes a fake sound of pain then leaves the bed. I watch as he pulls a robe from the closet, tosses it to me and says, “Pie.”

“Pie? Now?”

“Yep,” then he is gone. His Unclad Buttocks disappears through the door as he pulls his arm into the sleeves of his robe. I sigh, take another one of many deep breaths and climb out of bed, time forgotten for the moment. “Pie,” I laugh and shake my head, joining him in the kitchen, my robe loose around my body. 

“Whip cream?” I ask.

“To obvious,” he smiles. I pour two glasses of milk and we move outside. Morning sounds are just starting to erupt. A gentle breeze passes over us, as we take a seat on the whicker chairs and enjoy our pie and milk. “This has been more then I had ever dreamed.” I tell him. 

“I never thought it possible.”

“Nor did I, it is somewhat unfair also.”

To Be Continued…

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