Fiction: Streams of Seduction

What was she thinking? She wasn't thinking obviously, otherwise she would NOT be wearing that. I warned her that this town was a bit on the free side when it comes to carnal attentions and that dress, if it can even be called one, is only going to get her into someone's bed and she doesn't want that, would never want that, I wish she wanted it, wanted me.

Strangely, the fabric covers her completely, at least from the top of her breasts to just below her knees, but what fabric. Silk and lace, swirling around like a morning glory painted onto her body, bloody hell the silk covers her nipples, want to taste them, make them pebble, and another swath of silk covers the gate of pleasure, want to lick and nibble make her cry out and shudder and then join and lose myself for just a moment filling this need by filling her.

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What the hell is he thinking? Obviously he wasn't engaging any of his vaunted intelligence, not if he could look at me in this dress and not bloody well *do* anything. Once casual, normal glance, that's all he took, as I stepped out of the hotel room. I picked it out for him, trying to be brave and all and the bloody git didn't even seem to notice that I was wearing something different. I'd like to see him in something different.

I'd like to see him in something other than that jumper. The leather jacket and the dark pants, he can keep if the mood is right, but that jumper needs to go. It covers him too much. How can he stand this heat, with what he’s wearing? I want to see his belly. I want to see if he has one of those lines of hair down his belly. I want to trace it down and touch him. I wonder what he has... Well... I hope we're compatible down there.

Two can play that game. Tell her I needed something from my room. Take off the jumper. Put the jacket back on. Give her more of a glimpse than I’ve dared.

Oh God, the jumper is off! His chest is what I imagined, smooth and pale. And yes, he does have one of those lines. Want to follow it further down, find what is there.

I should have never asked what she wanted to do, just trying to be a gentleman. She finds the first dance club. She's now moving as if she was in a strip tease, but hasn't taken a stitch of clothing off. I'm going to kill her. I'm going to kiss her. I'm going to make her scream and come apart.

He's going to make me scream, leaning back against the railing like he is. That chest is half hid, half displayed by the jacket. Need to do something to break this blasted calm as he just leans there, watching me, glancing at the crowd.

Where did she learn that move? It’s hot in here, need a drink, she must be thirsty too.

His voice is embers and smoke when he asks me if I want a drink. Never heard him speak like that. Must have broken the ice.

Can't wait. Must touch her.

What the hell? Who’s touching me? Spin and it's him, not a stranger... Thank God, his hands are on my waist.

"Care to dance?"

God, where did he learn to move like this. Since when can I move like this? It's like that old dance. Sex as music, and he feels like sex, cool hands are fire on my skin through the lace. Ice fire, like his eyes. Run my hands up his chest, god he feels good. Hearts, mine and his, beating fast. Skin so smooth and right balance of muscle and softness. Smells so good.

Her hands on my skin burn. Her lips looks like chocolate....

Taste of tea and mint.

Nectar of the gods.

Neck smells so good, skin smooth and hot against my lips. Tastes so good, spice and honey.

Have to get her back to the room can't let her think for a moment she might end it.

Taking my hand, like that first time, heart breaking.

My room. Move the jumper off the bed, lay her down, can’t get enough of her.

He's wild, pushing me to the bed and kissing again. God, where did he learn to kiss like that?

She's bittersweetness and light. Her nipples tangy, full beneath my hands. Her skin slicks over with that slight sheen of sweat. Salty path down her belly as my hand teases her nipples. So responsive. Musical cries. Move a hand and she's damp against my fingers. No panties. Sharp cry as I part her labia with my tongue. So hot, temperature and sex. Fill her with fingers, so tight. Let go, take it all and then some.

God he's against that spot oh god oh god mercy

Melting beneath me, must claim her

The dress is moving on me, oh he's taking it off. Open your eyes girl, have to see this. Oh goody, the jacket is off, and now his jeans. Must have lost the shoes earlier. Oh my, are we ever going to be compatible. Good thing he used his fingers first. So good against me, eyes on mine as he moves against me, seeking entrance. Gods, he's just the right size. Can't help but tighten around him. God, feels so good. Too slow. Faster. What's he doing with his hand, Oh GOD. Faster please, want you to explode in me. Eyes flash, did I say that out loud?

Can't lose control, can't lose control, good gods she's going to go again, can't take it, so good so right so good clit pulsing against my fingers pussy around me she’s pleading voice so hot can't lose…

He screams he's in pain but his fingers twist on my clit....

Peace.

Peace.

[note: The above piece is the thoughts of two friends who can’t seem to make that last step that the so desperately want, as they make an attempt to show the other that yes, they want this, and the consequences. For those who aren’t British, jumper = sweater. Yes, the voices behind the thoughts on both sides are Brits.]