[erotica] 002 - Day Dream Believer
Seated on her bed she's trying to think about him. Instead the sound of the air conditioner whirring over in the corner keeps cutting into her thoughts. Her eyes opens, narrowed and staring at the offending machines. Inhaling sharply through flared nostrils she extends her hand outward a small blue spark arcing from her palm to the A/C unit silencing it quickly. A satisfied smirk crosses her features and she tries to relax again.
Shutting her eyes once more she breathes in deeply trying to fill all the empty spaces of her mind, which she's realizing there are a lot of, with different aspects of him. The pale blue eyes that watched her from across the room, tempting her with what he could have possibly seen... or the things he knows. The fact that they look at her helps too, almost as if he's trying to actually see her, maybe see beyond what she puts on display for everyone else.
It's never simple with her. Always needing to be better, or more disciplined, there is always an example to be made, or a lesson learned, and she's tired of it. The thoughts of it all start to pull her focus, and she pinches her eyes shut tighter, trying to stave off the other thoughts. She wants to think of other things, of the way his hair felt beneath her hands when she first got time alone with him. The way it threaded through her fingers and wasn't too long, but just long enough that she could tug his head back a bit to meet those pale blue eyes once more. She wanted him to watch her, always. To never let his gaze wander, but even she knew that was asking too much.
Even in this slight daydream of him she couldn't get him to keep her gaze. His eyes wandered across her body. All those years shut away... and here she was... just a few feet from him. She wants his hand to reach out for her, to just graze against her waist, or pull her fiercely into him, but instead he just watched her. It made her chest ache a bit to think that he couldn't desire a woman like her, but deep down even she questioned how much of a woman she could really be. Taking in a breath Elle's eyes still remained shut, her mind flooded with the sights that she let get etched into her memory of him. The curve of a smile that flickered in his eyes right before it hit his lips, and the way he'd try to say he wasn't interested but his eyes always deceived him. Eventually all the pacing would wear him down, and yet in her mind... now trying to recreate it all she let it build up even more. She'd let her hands run along her sides, and through her hair as she paced in front of him.
She could feel her own heart rate elevate a bit thinking about how this could affect him. She wasn't sure if she was what he even wanted, but she wanted to be desired. She wanted him to allow her to run her palm across his shoulder blades, sparks arcing gently across his skin, just to hear those little hisses of air being taken inward. Each one sharper than the next as she finally settled into his lap. Arms draped across his shoulders, Elle knew that she'd want to look into his eyes. She loved trying to imagine everything he saw, in the world, in others... in her. His goal once upon a time was to rid the world of most of the people in it. Elle wondered what could have happened that was so horrible that he'd think that mass genocide was the answer.
Elle shifted a bit on her bed, the images so vivid in her memory, so vibrant in her minds eye that she couldn't help but roll her shoulder trying to ease her body from the tension that was building up inside of her. He had suggested she do this, but really it was like personal torture forcing herself to think of these things... because he wasn't there. There was no relief to be had from all of this, just more anticipation.
Her palms felt a bit sweaty as she wiped them across her jeans against her thighs, shaking them in the air that wasn't cooling down anymore since she did happen to kill the air conditioner, which now doesn't seem to swift of an idea. Huffing a piece of her hair away from her eyes she tries to pull herself back into the dream, back into the fantasy where she's just straddled his lap, and her arms are draped across his shoulders. She'd want her fingertips to brush against his shoulders. He wasn't really overly built, but he was toned. All those years of wearing all the armor of a Japanese Swordsman, and the running around... sure there was getting drunk. She'd read all of the files on him one day, but he had a nice build to him. She remembered it all, every contour of his stomach, and every plane of his chest. She'd try to control her urge to shock him, to watch the muscles flex beneath her touch involuntarily, but she just wanted her palms to feel the skin, and muscle beneath the surface.
Elle in her room, alone in the warmth of the air permeating through her clothing now has to tug at the collar of her shirt, as she tries to recall it all. Every flinch of his reaction, as he anticipated her sending a small shock wave to the surface, but she held back for the most part. Breathing in the air she could almost smell him, the soapy clean smell that was all he ever had around him. The same soap that was in the bathroom dispensers, but this was mixed with his own pheromones, and Elle loved the smell of it. She'd lean into him, letting her body feel the warmth of his, him only in the standard drab clothing they'd give him, and her in a skirt that Bob never would have let her out of her room in.
She'd let her hands clasp to his, forcing them onto her thighs, making him finally touch her, claiming what she felt was rightfully his to explore. Her own smile finally sparked in her features as she inched his hands along with hers against her thighs. Fingertips dancing against the softness of her skin, then her own hinting at his lap. It could be so simple for her to practically molest him, and the first time she pretty much did, but now... in her mind... she knows that this is all she gets for now. This time... all she has is what her mind can think up, and as much fun as it is to imagine all the wickedly sinful things he could whisper to her, or the deliciously filthy things she could suggest... she knows it's not real. She knows that the warmth she feels is the room temperature rising, and that if it gets above a certain degree someone will show up to make sure she hasn't set her room on fire again.
So she tucks the dream away for later. Where she'll be alone again... and she can continue the fantasy that she worked so hard to begin.
Shutting her eyes once more she breathes in deeply trying to fill all the empty spaces of her mind, which she's realizing there are a lot of, with different aspects of him. The pale blue eyes that watched her from across the room, tempting her with what he could have possibly seen... or the things he knows. The fact that they look at her helps too, almost as if he's trying to actually see her, maybe see beyond what she puts on display for everyone else.
It's never simple with her. Always needing to be better, or more disciplined, there is always an example to be made, or a lesson learned, and she's tired of it. The thoughts of it all start to pull her focus, and she pinches her eyes shut tighter, trying to stave off the other thoughts. She wants to think of other things, of the way his hair felt beneath her hands when she first got time alone with him. The way it threaded through her fingers and wasn't too long, but just long enough that she could tug his head back a bit to meet those pale blue eyes once more. She wanted him to watch her, always. To never let his gaze wander, but even she knew that was asking too much.
Even in this slight daydream of him she couldn't get him to keep her gaze. His eyes wandered across her body. All those years shut away... and here she was... just a few feet from him. She wants his hand to reach out for her, to just graze against her waist, or pull her fiercely into him, but instead he just watched her. It made her chest ache a bit to think that he couldn't desire a woman like her, but deep down even she questioned how much of a woman she could really be. Taking in a breath Elle's eyes still remained shut, her mind flooded with the sights that she let get etched into her memory of him. The curve of a smile that flickered in his eyes right before it hit his lips, and the way he'd try to say he wasn't interested but his eyes always deceived him. Eventually all the pacing would wear him down, and yet in her mind... now trying to recreate it all she let it build up even more. She'd let her hands run along her sides, and through her hair as she paced in front of him.
She could feel her own heart rate elevate a bit thinking about how this could affect him. She wasn't sure if she was what he even wanted, but she wanted to be desired. She wanted him to allow her to run her palm across his shoulder blades, sparks arcing gently across his skin, just to hear those little hisses of air being taken inward. Each one sharper than the next as she finally settled into his lap. Arms draped across his shoulders, Elle knew that she'd want to look into his eyes. She loved trying to imagine everything he saw, in the world, in others... in her. His goal once upon a time was to rid the world of most of the people in it. Elle wondered what could have happened that was so horrible that he'd think that mass genocide was the answer.
Elle shifted a bit on her bed, the images so vivid in her memory, so vibrant in her minds eye that she couldn't help but roll her shoulder trying to ease her body from the tension that was building up inside of her. He had suggested she do this, but really it was like personal torture forcing herself to think of these things... because he wasn't there. There was no relief to be had from all of this, just more anticipation.
Her palms felt a bit sweaty as she wiped them across her jeans against her thighs, shaking them in the air that wasn't cooling down anymore since she did happen to kill the air conditioner, which now doesn't seem to swift of an idea. Huffing a piece of her hair away from her eyes she tries to pull herself back into the dream, back into the fantasy where she's just straddled his lap, and her arms are draped across his shoulders. She'd want her fingertips to brush against his shoulders. He wasn't really overly built, but he was toned. All those years of wearing all the armor of a Japanese Swordsman, and the running around... sure there was getting drunk. She'd read all of the files on him one day, but he had a nice build to him. She remembered it all, every contour of his stomach, and every plane of his chest. She'd try to control her urge to shock him, to watch the muscles flex beneath her touch involuntarily, but she just wanted her palms to feel the skin, and muscle beneath the surface.
Elle in her room, alone in the warmth of the air permeating through her clothing now has to tug at the collar of her shirt, as she tries to recall it all. Every flinch of his reaction, as he anticipated her sending a small shock wave to the surface, but she held back for the most part. Breathing in the air she could almost smell him, the soapy clean smell that was all he ever had around him. The same soap that was in the bathroom dispensers, but this was mixed with his own pheromones, and Elle loved the smell of it. She'd lean into him, letting her body feel the warmth of his, him only in the standard drab clothing they'd give him, and her in a skirt that Bob never would have let her out of her room in.
She'd let her hands clasp to his, forcing them onto her thighs, making him finally touch her, claiming what she felt was rightfully his to explore. Her own smile finally sparked in her features as she inched his hands along with hers against her thighs. Fingertips dancing against the softness of her skin, then her own hinting at his lap. It could be so simple for her to practically molest him, and the first time she pretty much did, but now... in her mind... she knows that this is all she gets for now. This time... all she has is what her mind can think up, and as much fun as it is to imagine all the wickedly sinful things he could whisper to her, or the deliciously filthy things she could suggest... she knows it's not real. She knows that the warmth she feels is the room temperature rising, and that if it gets above a certain degree someone will show up to make sure she hasn't set her room on fire again.
So she tucks the dream away for later. Where she'll be alone again... and she can continue the fantasy that she worked so hard to begin.