White Lies

Awaken

Sundays are the best!

As far as Blanche is concerned, she hasn't had such an enjoyable morning in a long time. Sure she looks forward to sleeping in on the weekends, but waking up with Hunter devouring her under the sheets tops everything else. Once she's increasingly aware of what's going on, her whole body tingles everywhere, and she feels the pool of liquid heat in her very centre. Blanche shoves the sheets aside and finds Hunter between her thighs.

He stops for a moment, lifts his head up and spreads his mouth into an achingly sexy smile. "Good morning," he says to her before diving back to it.

"Yeah," Blanche breathes out. She pants and moans. Her hands find and tug at his hair. As she gets closer to a foot-numbing orgasm, her hips arch off the bed, bringing her heated folds to Hunter's hungry mouth.

Her eyes roll back. An involuntary shiver snakes down to her extremities. To think that she's missed this sensation all of her sex life. She may have no one to compare to, but she knows that Hunter is very, very good at it. In fact, he is great with everything.

He's talented at every aspect, his artistry, in the kitchen, in bed, and from what has happened the previous night, he is an incredible listener.

Hunter held her in his arms, cradling her as she cried about her past life, the empty life with Perry. How many times in the past has she heard that she's one lucky girl? No, she never felt lucky. She felt used. She felt like a hollow husk, doing everyone's bidding except her own. People she used to call friends have surrounded her and patted her on the hand, with fake smiles on their faces. Yet, she knew they were only after one thing-- an association with someone as famous as her.

In a demented way she would like to thank Perry for finally breaking the proverbial camel's back. It drove her to seek for her own true happiness, her true self. Not the woman who walked around with a hand up her ass talking when she was told to talk, attending events she has been ordered to attend, wearing clothes which were picked for her. She had zero say on anything. And so she sought out the one real friend she's had for years, whose strength and courage inspired her-- Trisha.

Trisha lived a life which was similar to hers, except she'd taken the bull by the horns, and charged into the unknown when she turned eighteen. The night before Trisha moved to New York, they've met before curtain call. Trisha pulled Blanche aside and showed her the one way flight which she was to take after Trisha's show. Tears filled Bee's eyes, not for losing the only friend she can trust, but because Bee could not find it in her to take the same route.

Five years later, Bee has found her way to the city that never sleeps, battered and bruised, inside and out.

Hunter didn't ask much questions last night. He simply let Blanche say whatever she wanted, and cry until she has been too exhausted to do more. Right after, Hunter led her to their new sofa, where they ate the dinner he's prepared. When it was clear that it was time for them to get some sleep, Hunter picked her up and laid her on the bed. And for the first time in all her life, Bee has experienced the delights of making love. Her eyes have been opened to the serenity that it brings. Unhurried in his movements, Hunter worshipped her body in ways she is unwilling to forget. His touches were mesmerizing. His kisses were gratifying. His dulcet tones as he spoke her name were harmonious to the rapid tattoo of her heart. The orgasms that wracked her body were nothing short of euphoric. And right after, Hunter circled his arms around her quaking body, and lulled her to sleep.

Waking up in the morning with him lapping at her until she comes is on the same level as falling asleep with him the night before. Hunter kisses his way back up her body, then plants his hot lips on hers. If she can wake up every single day like that, she'll be convince she's died and gone to heaven.