23 year old, Fatima's life was well planned out when she finished her college studies in Stanford University. Coming back home in London, she'd planned to take a gap year and have time to figure out what she really wanted to do with her life. Everyt...
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When I drifted into consciousness the following morning, I was clouded by a strong, warm set of arms wrapped firmly around me like claiming me from something or rather someone.
"Good morning!" I craned my head upwards to look at him at the same he looked down at me, our eyes met, our lips just inches away from each other, breathing into one another. A mushy feeling lighted up my whole body, butterflies running inside my tummy.
"Good morning." My voice was as just softly as it sounds since I had just woken up. He used his thumb to move my hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear.
"You know this feels good, waking up like this." He muttered, against my forehead, I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips against me. He was right, it was a good feeling, waking up in someone's arms, the affection, the fondness, the love, it was excruciating. I loved every bit of it. After fighting with each other for so long, we were in bed together, cuddling, smooching and snuggled in each other's arms. We were indeed complicated or maybe in denial.
"It's like a great start of something..." I listened as he carried on. "...something new I think..."
"Who are you and what have you done to my idiotic husband of six months?" He laughed and I joined him.
"You're trying to be funny?" He mused.
"Not at all..." I replied. "So what's your day like today?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Yes. I have to know if I'm going to die or something." He laughed, I mean really laughed, freely I might add, he had a great laugh, his voice was horse and rough from the sleep.
"Now that's funny." He lowered his face to look at me, the same time I raised mine. His lips locked against mine in a sensual yet demanding and possessive manner. My hand that was drawing circles on his chest, slid to his neck to pull him close. My fingers gripped a hold of his hair as he deepened the kiss, our breaths quickening. I melted in his kiss, his arms, his tight embrace.
I never thought I'd feel that way ever since my last boyfriend, more like my one and only boyfriend who impregnated one of my friends. My entire body electrified, blood boiling, shivers and goosebumps running through my spine, everything in me begged for him. He slowly caressed my back with his fingers, stealing a moan from me, his tongue invading my mouth.
He lifted my leg to wrap around his torso, I immediately complied. He was already hard, against me. He didn't stop kissing me as he lifted me to get on top of him. He was damn hard against the between of my thighs and it felt so good. I grinded him slowly but surely to get him muttering curses in Italian.
"Shit, Fatima..." He groaned, his hold on my waist tightened, he slid his hands on my hips and squeezed my flesh, a moan escaped me, a moan of appreciation, feeling how hard he was for me whilst I grinded him got me excited.
