Paris // Jake Kiszka

Mumbai

Jake's skin was hot and sweaty, his chest a sticky mess against your back as you opened your eyes. You were not prepared for the humidity or the dust which seemed to find it's way into every nook of your body.

You squinted against the light streaking in from behind the curtain and felt as if you had melted into the arms draped over you, quite literally.

"Jake?" You croaked, feeling your voice crack on the heat of the air.

He peeled himself away from you. Grunting in his sleep as he rolled back onto his side of the bed. Mumbai time said that it was morning, but your body was convinced it was the dead of the night. As you glanced over, you noted how his hair was sticking to his cheek and you gently pulled it away, causing him to stir.

"What time is it?" He asked, his mouth turning into a pout as he stretched.

"A little after eight in the morning." You replied, sultry and sleepy as you leaned down to give that little pout a kiss.

He looked all fucked out. But in truth, you had fallen into the bed on arrival and drifted off to sleep almost as soon as your head had hit the pillows.

"It feels like midnight." He yawned, reaching out to pull you back down into the heat of his body.

You were too tired not to let him reel you in. Closing your eyes against the morning light as his fingers rolled around your hip. Pulling your waist into the curve of his crotch. Both of your bodies swathed in a sheen of travel sweat and a sense that you were still on the verge of going back to sleep.

"Let's pretend it's still the middle of the night." You suggested, your breath releasing slowly as you felt his soft pubic hair against your ass cheeks. "And stay in bed a while longer."

He murmured an agreement and began to writhe against you. As if he was lost in that place between asleep and awake. His eyes closed firmly, but his body moving rhythmically into yours. You could feel the unmistakable hardness of his cock as he pushed your leg forward and you laid there as he explored between your thighs.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me? Like you were in Europe?" He asked, the velvet tones of his sleepy voice sending you to that corner of your mind that still liked to replay those precious days over and over.

"We're in India now, Jake." You replied, feeling yourself awaken from the way he trailed his fingertips down your moistening slit. "Maybe India is for bad girls..."

He giggled into the back of your neck, the heat of his breath sizzling on your drenched skin as he rolled you onto your stomach. He was awake now too, pulling your hips up and parting your legs as if he hadn't been half asleep only moments ago.

Propped up on his elbow, his free hand slipped down the curve of your back and you shuddered as he dragged his fingers through your ass cheeks and down into your waiting pussy. You made a soft, dreamy sigh as he hooked a finger inside you and you blew the hair out of your face that had fallen there.

"You want to be a bad girl, huh?" He guffawed, curling his knuckle to bring his fingertip to that sweet spot he knew would bring you to the edge. "I might let you..."

Another finger slipped inside and you moaned heavily into your pillow, sliding onto your knees in desperate need of him to fill you up.

The journey to Mumbai had been fraught with lost luggage and transfer delays, the friction of the unexpected heat and the strange sensation of the morning when it felt as if it should have been night fuelling your begging stance. You just wanted something to feel good. You just wanted to erase the past twenty four hours and fall into sweet oblivion.