Lost in Hollywood

Forgiveness

In Hawk's dreams, Sky always forgave him.

I forgive you, she sighed when he laid her down on the bed and kissed her craning neck, I forgive you when his lips devoured the valley between her small, supple breasts. I forgive you when he lapped his tongue over her nipples and they turned rock-hard, delicious, and intriguing like cranberries or hard candies and he sucked them with his hungry mouth, first one, then the other. I forgive you. Oh, Eli, I love you.

He said he loved her too, said it a thousand times, breathed it with a broken voice close to her ear when she wrapped her legs around his waist and he pushed into her slick heat, his dick thrusting so deep into her, that she moaned and cried out, her legs trembling on both sides of his hips.

In his dreams, they did it in her bed. Always in her bed, where the heavy, burgundy curtains were closed and created a haven of soft shadows. They did it on her pink, flower-patterned sheets that smelled like her vanilla perfume, her strawberry shower gel, and girl. And it was just like before - she wanted him, she loved him, she couldn't get enough of him. Her fingernails scraped down his back when he fucked her and she climaxed, moaning out his name Eli, Eli, Oh my God, Eli that feels so good—

The memory of the latest dream was fierce, it was a tidal wave that overrode his mind and his body, taking his breath away. He couldn't help the effect it had on him, even if he tried. His cheeks heated as he realized he was getting hard - which was not a good thing. He was in the school, for fucks sake, in English class—

Uncomfortable, he shifted on his seat and glanced around the classroom, trying to hide his raging boner under the table. Ms. Hardinge was talking in front of the class, most kids were making notes in their notebooks, some were discreetly watching their phones or talking with their friends - the usual. To Hawk's great relief, no one seemed to be paying any attention to his situation.

He couldn't help but turn his eyes to Sky, who was sitting in front of him, and yet another flash of heat coursed through his veins. She was so fucking pretty in her short, pink skirt, the cute sweater, and knee-high socks, that Hawk would have gladly stared at her all day. Which, of course, made him a pathetic creep.

Angrily he drew his eyes off her and started tapping the floor restlessly with his sneakered foot, trying to force down his persistent hard-on with the sheer force of his frustration.

It had been like this all this week.

Spending time with Sky every day at the dojo was fucking shattering him, it was turning him into a complete mess, an idiot who barely remembered his own name. He had thought his longing for her had been bad before, but watching her train in her super cute, tight sports leggings and tops, was pushing his yearning to whole new levels. She was the only thing he could think about, and no matter how pathetic it was, he didn't even want it to change.

These heated dreams were making him nuts, but still, they were the best thing that had happened to him since Sky had dumped him. So what if the sex wasn't real? So what if her love wasn't real? It fucking felt real, when he held her in his arms, kissed her neck, sucked her boobs, and fucked her hard on her bed, so fucking hard that her whole body was bouncing, so fucking deep that she chanted his name breathlessly when he made her come, that he fucking cried when he orgasmed with her and filled her tight pussy with his cum—

He'd been doing a lot of laundry this past week. Fresh sheets every night. Mom probably thought he was suffering from the sleep enuresis again, but if so, at least she didn't say anything about it, for which Hawk was immensely grateful. Sneaking into the laundry room with his cum-stained sheets in the middle of the night was mortifying enough even without Mom's well-meaning questions.