The Art Of Living

3. Martha

You sure?  He stalks toward me his eyes piercing through a hooded gaze.

I can't help wonder what it be like his hands on my small body.  He was alot bigger than me he could definitely do damage like he'd want to.

My fingers are itching to touch him but I resist.  My head buries into his chest and oddly the beating of his heart is soothing.  until His eyes drop to my lips and this makes my insides do flips.  I suck my bottom lip in before taking in a deep dry gulp.  Silently urging him to make a move.  He knows exactly how to kiss me.  How much force to use where exactly to put his hands.  I get the feeling we have done this before tho I know for sure we never have.

For the first time in my existence, a wave of hot, pulsing blood floods through my body like a shift in my core energy.

What is violence? Blood, pain, fighting.  What is all that?  Is it even possible to experience pure delight without pain and why does the need lead to intoxication.

I don't even know anymore. I'm not able to connect to that side of myself.  My core feelings aren't ravenous for being a naughty girl in this sudden change.

Now my priorities feel entirely different from that one hot pulse.

I lick my lips, over and over. I close my eyes groaning.

I drop to the bed panting my knees unable to hold me up. Tears of need prick the corners of my eyes.  Blinded by an urge.  A desire that I've never known.

Stop playing with me i cry into the sheets.

I now feel two long hot fingers slip down my back and they don't slow down, they don't stop. His fingers slowly stalling like he has all the time in the world to drive me insane with want.

Surely I am pure liquid inside.

Then he gets rougher and before I can even grasp what he is doing his fingers are like daggers against my swollen clit.

What is it to shiver in fear.
Should I be pushed into pure oblivion with these thoughts upon me.  With an agonizing fear and need to feel penetrated.  Soon the fear subsides and his brutish touch no longer causes pain but pleasure and soon leaves me wanting more.

Ah, ah I need more i hiss into the sheets.  All I can see is images of pure bliss as I move my head to the side. Where I try to see his face.  There is nothing behind me.

My pants are like ice pricks as i push back against fingers that are no longer there.  All that remains is a pulsating throb between my thighs, antagonizing heat.

A disappointing sadness is replaced with fright when the image of a man stands before me. 

His overshadowing form threatens to tease.  I refuse to speak until the teasing stops.  And how tantalizing will it be for me to please with the taste of my tongue.

Even I cry to the taste of him.  His massive shaft that he refuses suck. Instead he slaps my face with it.  He tastes like delicious honey.  Oh how I love honey.

Her eyes jolt open as if awoken from a dream.

(Panting, heavy sobbs, anguish and the feeling of unending dread)

She looks around the quiet room remembering that she had just been worried and what it was that worried her. Could it have been just a nightmare? 

Was it just a dream?  Lucy?  I call out just before the panic sets in again.

Her eyes shift outside the window and flicker over the building across from them. Thats when she is frightened by the sound of ringing.

She screws up her face...what