Narrative ~ Complete
Who: Harry
Where: His flat
When: Sept. 10th, 2005, 5 a.m.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry awakes after having an interesting dream
...the only real thing for you right now, is that you are dying. It's not possible to feel so much pleasure and pain at the same time, unless you are on the verge of crossing over. You arch your back, your body not being able to part with his as he thrusts out of you, not being patient enough to wait until he gets back in. A moangroangrowl, and you couldn't say whom it came from even if they threaten to kill you. You feel him inside of you, hard, hot, sleek, and when he starts stroking you, fast, hard, ohGodsogood all you can see are his eyes, grey, cold at first sight, but in reality intense, penetrating, commanding and you couldn't avert your gaze, even if he'd order you to, but he won't, because he's coming and so are you. Coming, losing yourself in the depths of those cold grey eyes, and Merlin, you never want to get out...
Harry woke up, panting and sweaty and oh God he couldn't remember the last time he had come so hard. After long minutes, when he could finally move, he sat straight up, trying to grasp his breath, clearing his mind of his post-orgasmic fog, lest he'd forget what he had just dreamt. He finally remembered something else besides the grey eyes. He remembered kissable skin and long legs, elegant hands and dexterous fingers. He flopped down on his bed and hid his face with his pillow, groaning, because, no, he was not going to keep having wet dreams about his Godfather and Merlin, he was so sick because he was sure of something. That had been the best wet dream of his life.
Where: His flat
When: Sept. 10th, 2005, 5 a.m.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry awakes after having an interesting dream
...the only real thing for you right now, is that you are dying. It's not possible to feel so much pleasure and pain at the same time, unless you are on the verge of crossing over. You arch your back, your body not being able to part with his as he thrusts out of you, not being patient enough to wait until he gets back in. A moangroangrowl, and you couldn't say whom it came from even if they threaten to kill you. You feel him inside of you, hard, hot, sleek, and when he starts stroking you, fast, hard, ohGodsogood all you can see are his eyes, grey, cold at first sight, but in reality intense, penetrating, commanding and you couldn't avert your gaze, even if he'd order you to, but he won't, because he's coming and so are you. Coming, losing yourself in the depths of those cold grey eyes, and Merlin, you never want to get out...
Harry woke up, panting and sweaty and oh God he couldn't remember the last time he had come so hard. After long minutes, when he could finally move, he sat straight up, trying to grasp his breath, clearing his mind of his post-orgasmic fog, lest he'd forget what he had just dreamt. He finally remembered something else besides the grey eyes. He remembered kissable skin and long legs, elegant hands and dexterous fingers. He flopped down on his bed and hid his face with his pillow, groaning, because, no, he was not going to keep having wet dreams about his Godfather and Merlin, he was so sick because he was sure of something. That had been the best wet dream of his life.