Still

You lay curled up behind me, warm breath fluttering past my cheek with each snore. Your arm grazes my hip and from time to time you move your legs against mine. It is the cuddle I crave, and it fills a need inside. Yet, it leaves me empty. I watch the TV that blares a random show; something dramatic, depicting characters that I don?t know, and don?t care about. Your breathing is rhythmic and the snores even. The rise and fall of your chest against my bare back soothes and inflames me. I move to roll on my back beside you and you wordlessly pull me close. We lie together; you sleeping, me watching the nameless show on the TV. Your breath brushes my nipple with each exhalation. It is a gentle tickle. I turn my head and press my lips to your forehead. Inside the blankets, it is toasty cozy warm. My leg dangles outside in the cool, conditioned air. I stare at the show seeing, but not really watching. Rather I am feeling the way your breath is like little fingers against my skin. Grazing across, it makes me wish for more. I shouldn't be so needy; I know you are tired, exhausted really. Your work has left you drained. I trail my fingers across your skin, drawing them slowly, wishing that you would wake Kurtköy Escort up, and knowing you should not. My fingers run along the arm draped across me, up to your shoulder, then down along the muscles that are now loose and relaxed in your sleep. A small sigh escapes your lips. I continue to slide my fingers across you, down your arm, along your hand that rests on me, then on to my hip. The light touch pairs with your breath to inflame me. I draw the fingers up towards the nipples that are now standing hard against the cool air that fills the room, pushing the covers to my waist. You murmur in your sleep and turn from me to your back. Now we lay side by side, warm skin touching. Your restless legs are spread, and the one farthest flung from me propped up. I slide my fingers up along my soft belly. I ache for you to look over at me, with your eyes open and watching, and to claim me. But it was a long, tiring day, and tomorrow promises more of the same, so I lay quiet and still. My fingers have found my breasts now. I run the tips along them, feeling the heaviness as they hang away from my chest. I lift one and hold it, squeezing gently while I run my fingers Kurtköy Escort Bayan across it. The skin rises in goose bumps. The nipple is hard and begs for my fingers to touch it too, so I oblige. I run my fingers in circles, then draw one along the end. I can see how proud it stands in the silhouette caused by the glow from the unattended TV. I grasp the protrusion and squeeze it a little, rolling it between my fingers, giving it a slight pinch, then releasing it. Your breath stirs across my sensitive skin as you sleep and I want more. I grasp it again, firmly this time. I drag my nails along it and I want to shiver. But I know I cannot, for you are asleep right beside me, and you need your rest. I pinch it cruelly, lifting it by the nipple. A small whimper escapes my lips. I want so much for you to wake up and replace my fingers with your teeth, but that would be selfish. So I squeeze them myself, fiercely, angrily. It feels so good, the other nipple is brushing against my arm, and the heavy fullness of my breast grazes your skin. It is hemmed in on all sides and it aches for more, more then a brush, more then a breath. Frustrated, almost as if it had a mind Escort Kadıköy of its own the nipple is reaching farther towards more contact. I place my hand over it, palm against the nipple, fingers embedded in my breast. I squeeze tight; grasping, pinching myself. Sinking into the soft, yielding flesh. Loosening my grip, red marks remain where my fingers were. I lie back, and try to watch the nameless show. The desire to wake you is tremendous, but I dare not give in. If I wake you, you will not get the sleep you need to be able to go to work in the morning. My skin throbs and I mercilessly remain still. I refuse to give in to the temptation to reach over and stroke you. Your naked skin against mine drives me, but still I remain, hands at sides. On my back, I stare at the unwatched show, still not knowing anything about the plot. Scenes of slutty, raunchy sex are running through my mind like a dirty porno. I see myself crying out in ecstasy as you fuck me. You fill my holes, stretching them tight as you use me. I can feel a tickle as a drop of my juice starts its slow slide along my thigh, and I think of your cum dripping from my face. My fingers steal across my belly, creeping back toward my aching nipples. They are standing hard and proud in the cool air. My fingers are warm on them and I slowly rub them in circles, first one side, then the other. Whimpers die in my throat as I lay still. My arm catches one breast in the crock of my elbow and the hand stimulates the other nipple.