Wishful Thinking

It was getting darker, and there was a beautiful breeze blowing in her face. Music came to her from a distance; somewhere, someone was praying, and it was a beautiful sound in the gathering darkness.
Next to her, he was smoking the last cigarette from the pack.
She'd made at least five pathetically see-through excuses to initiate contact over the whole day, and her knee was tingling with the sheer closeness to his hand. He'd grazed her knee briefly for some reason or the other; she couldn't remember now, and it hadn't stopped sending happy-shivers up her spine since then.
She shook herself, mentally. This was self-destructive behaviour. This wasn't doing anyone any good.
As if on cue, her phone rang. "Hello? Hi... Oh no, nothing, just out with... Haan, but we decided to-what? Arre no, it's cool... Erm. No, but-okay... Okay. Are you okay? But... Arre! What's that supposed to... Fine. Bye."
She put the phone in her pocket and hugged her knees, frowning.
He put a hand on her shoulder, making her start. "Hey, what happened? Looks like the lake insulted you."
She shook her head. "Not the lake, it's nothing, forget it."
He frowned. It wasn't a nice change to see her usually open face so upset. "Hey... You sure? Who was it?"
She shook her head again. It wouldn't do to tell him, he was too close to the whole thing.
He put his arm around her shoulders. "Fine. Don't tell me, but don't feel so upset, okay? Come on! Life's about living!"
Without thinking, she snuggled into his side. She'd been thinking of this for a while. He put his arms around her, pulling her close, as she put her hand out for support on the ground. "You'll hurt that," he whispered as he gently pulled her arm off the ground and leaned against her, putting one hand between her head and the ground.
He leaned on his elbow and traced his fingers along the side of her face as she looked up at him, whatever she could see in the dark. "I wanna... But you'll say 'Kitna kameena insaan hai.'..."
She was beyond being careful, being right, he was so close, he felt so strong and real and there... She reached up, cupped his face, ran a thumb from temple to cheek and slightly pulled his face towards her; heart in her mouth lest she had read him wrong...
They kissed. It was like they'd flipped a switch or joined a fuse somewhere. He shifted in the dark, settling himself more comfortably, the hand that was playing with her hair now at her side, fingers dancing around, sending shock-waves flying from tip to toe. She was stretched out, and her shirt was just a little too short, leaving her pelvic bones open to air, allowing him  new areas of exploration, he moved up again, this time under the barely-there covering she'd worn that morning.
His status with women made graphic sense to her now, his kisses were like little doses of beer; you wanted more when you came to the end of one. His hands were making her shiver in response to their exploratory treks along her rib-cage. Soon, they moved on to southern lands, while his warm breath took up their earlier task of making her shiver.
Suddenly, he pulled away, standing up and pulling her with him. "Wait, this is better" He said, as he held her close to him, one hand at her waist, one caressing her back under her shirt.
She sighed, but simultaneously mewed in complaint. "You're all tucked in and belted down..."
He chuckled as he spread his arms "It's not irreversible..."
Staring up at his profile in the light of whatever there was available, she slowly unbuttoned his shirt, breath catching mid-inhalation at the sheer sculpted feel of his torso.
He bent down, lifting her face to his, one finger under her chin. "Let me kiss you while you're at that."
She left his shirt half-unbuttoned, still tucked into his jeans, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. His hands, finding themselves free were playing under her shirt, till eventually, he pulled away, impatiently, pulled off his shirt, pulled off hers, and slipped his shirt onto her arms. "Put this on, just in case"
With a sigh that could've been described as a soft moan, he bent his head to her now bared collar-bone, making her sigh in pleasure. He pushed her against the slope of an obliging rock, leaning into her, letting her tentatively kiss his neck as her hands played around on his chest. God, his rock-hard chest...
Her thoughts blurred as he displayed more skills, he was beyond all the fantasies, much better in reality than in her torrid imagination...
Voices, she could hear voices... "Oh shit..."
Scrambling back into the realm of decency, they started back down the hill, ending her fantasy, and back to the realm of the real.

Baby, It's Cold Outside...

I dropped my horrible, heavy bag on the couch and sighed.

It'd been a long, cold, tiring day, and I was beyond tired. All I wanted was to kick off my shoes, get rid of my jeans and relax with my pillows and blanket with the heat up and wallow in self-pity at the tiredness.

I sauntered through the sitting room, locking the door behind me, and pushing open the door to the inner room. And froze.

"How in the name of... What are you...?"

How he'd managed to get in there, I don't know. He had. He was sitting on the bed, chilling and watching my TV, leaning on my pillows and toasting his feet at my heater.

He grinned at me "You took long enough..."

I fumbled at the lights, trying to get enough illumination to ascertain the reality value of this vision.

He was nearer, now, standing right next to me, pulling me away from the lights, towards him. "Hey, why're you turning on all the lights? I like it like this..."

He had his hands on my shoulders, slowly walking backwards till he sat on the bed he had just been occupying, sliding his hands to my waist.

It was like I was running on automatic. My hands went to his shoulders, then to his cheek, which he hadn't shaved in the last day or so; the stubble was showing.

"It's really you..." I still couldn't believe it, he was here. He was really here. I hadn't been expecting him for days. Tentatively, to prove it further, I leaned down and kissed him.

God, nothing felt so right before; nothing so good, either. He stood up, his male ego being too dominant for it to take sitting down for so long. And now, it was his rock-hard torso that I could bury my face in, it was really him.

He lifted me up as if I were a stuffed toy and made it to the bed with impressive accuracy, lying next to me, one hand stroking my hair, the other arm under his head. This wouldn't do at all, he was teasing me, tantalizing. After so many days, after a mind-blowing kiss, he decides to keep his distance?

"I'm cold," I whisper, "come, keep me warm."

He was better than a blanket, better than the heater warming the sheets. His weight, negligible as it was, was just right, and his hands were making fireworks go off in my head. And in the pit of my stomach.

His fingers were making exploratory forays into territory they had stayed away from thus far, and they were doing a phenomenal job of warming me up.

"Wait." he slipped his shirt off, pausing at the hem of mine "You mind...?"

I shook my head, letting him pull it off, enjoying the sudden chill and the contrasting warmth from him.

His hands, so powerful in context, were right then at their most gentle. His breath on my neck was warm and sent shivers down my spine as he fumbled with hooks and buttons and other pesky things that were designed to thwart. His hands reached for my waistband, and mine for his, simultaneously.

He was asking for permission. In reply, I kissed him, slowly pulling apart the button from the button-hole. Almost at the same time, his phone rang, signalling that his ride had arrived.

"Don't go..."
It wasn't like me, but it slipped out. I couldn't let him go now, he would be gone so long. "I'm sorry," I whispered, clearing my throat and grinning up at him. "Have a safe trip."

He knew me. He held me, hugged me, kissed me one last time and left.

This night had been something for the ages, this was something which I would keep with me long after he had gone again. It was one of those memories for a cold winter's day, when I missed him.

Of Sado-Masochistic Lambs

Everything around her vanished as he walked in. It was something in the way he held his hands; the way he walked, strutting slightly and obviously carrying a tune in his head. It wasn't that she liked him romantically; she just wanted him. He had big hands, she wanted to feel held by those hands. He was tall, built in a lean and hefty way, somehow... She wanted to feel wanted by him. He knew what she meant; she sensed that he'd been through a past that had caused him to be as reserved as she was, inside; he knew her city; he knew her language. She saw the flights of volubility and the bouts of confidence that she herself felt at times. And maybe it was narcissism, but she wanted him to want her; she wanted to feel his desire through his hands, wanted to know what it was like to kiss someone like him. She'd noticed... He had brilliant teeth, despite his... Habits.
What would it feel like, she wondered, as he settled down nearby; what would it feel like to be pinned to a wall under his weight? He smelled elusively familiarly hauntingly attractive. She wanted to feel that presence all around her. She was sure he was slim; he didn't seem to have anything unduly loose. She shivered as her gut clenched, feet shivered and hair stood on end on her limbs.
She could envision it as she sat there. There are crickets chirping outside, the air is otherwise still. Everyone else has fallen asleep a while back; she's up and standing at the window, looking out at the lights. She's going to have to face quite an inquisition the next day, and she's dreading it. After a little introspection, she decides that she needs another bout of deep breathing to calm her down. She turns inside, fumbling for where she'd dumped all her things, finding them with a minimum of noise and a lot of effort. She decides to change windows in case she woke anyone up, and heads deeper into the house. She stands and listens for sounds of awakening and prepares to settle down. "Don't." his voice makes her start and inhale sharply as she whips around. "I thought you were all asleep, did I wake you?"
He shakes his head, walking towards the window "Nah, I was up. Indulged a little by myself.".
She sniggers "Remember my warning..."
He sniggers right back, "I will. But give that shit up, dude. It's not as rewarding."
She shrugs and puts her belongings aside for the time being. Doesn't look like she'll need 'em for a bit, anyway. "I prefer it."
They're standing and looking out at the city some more and the darkness seems to get closer. She decides to walk away and get to bed and turns away, patting his shoulder as she leaves "I should crash. Later, dopey."
She's at the door when it closes, seemingly on its own steam, but she knows the real deal, she can feel him behind her.
"Hey, what?"
She can't see much, but she doesn't need to, as he comes closer, pushing her into the door, and himself into her. He doesn't say anything and neither does she. She doesn't want to. She can feel his hand slowly sliding up her waist, and it feels just like it looked like it would. He finds the border of her shirt and slowly starts taking the parallel route to what he had been taking; separated from the cool air only by the shirt. A sigh is all she can manage at the warmth of his hand and another as the other one joins the first. His hands splay across her back and side, caressing if they move even an inch. He leans over her shoulder and against the door, slowly lowering his head till it's in the crook of her neck. Shivers spread down her spine at the slight feeling of his breath on her neck.
And suddenly, she's awake again. She sighed as she realised, making a face as she did, that reality was vastly different from her fantastic pictures. She smiled at him, and settled down to the tasks she had.

Dream Sequence

Walking along the main road; for once empty of any movement, she's glad of the arm around her waist. These shoes were wonderful all day, but they chose now to make their nastiness felt. Still, it gave her the excuse she'd been looking for all night to grab his arm. It was such an attractive arm, rock hard and steady. Very like his waist, which she'd come in close contact with when she'd hugged him in a moment of absent-minded sympathy.

Together, they walked along the pavement, buses standing quietly, waiting to drop revelers back to their anonymity. "Give me a call when you're in town" He said. It was then that it struck her that this really was the last time they'd meet. He wouldn't be allowed any free time till he left the premises for the last time. And she wasn't going to be in his town for a long while. Maybe it was time to see if the memories of this night could get a little more... Poignant...

"It's cold" she rubbed her arms. He rubbed them along with her "Warmer?"

She shivered, not from the cold, but because of his hands. He took the next step. "I don't have a jacket. Don't tell your father I did this."

Before she could react, he had his arms around her. She looked around nervously. This didn't bode well for him if anyone saw it. They were strategically placed behind a bus and an ancient tree. Nobody could see them unless they were right there.

Leaning back against the tree, he leaned into her, giving her warmth.

"You don't have to risk this..." she mumbled into his extremely well-formed chest.

"It's okay. I've been wanting to."

She sighed.

Her hands decided that they wanted to explore a little. It wasn’t that they were looking at new discoveries, they just felt like they wanted to see if what they’d seen earlier that evening was an illusion of a depraved mind. No. It was very real; every sculpted bit of it. Even through the shirt and cummarband, they felt what they’d seen.

Meanwhile, his hands were moving as well. She felt them slide down the slippery cloth, flick her thigh and then back up. It was the most agonizing thing she had felt in a while. She wished she’d worn jeans and a t-shirt. Some things might’ve been easier. Or buttons, like his. She experimentally slipped her fingers into the gap between buttons. They liked it there and decided to stay, moving up and down at times.

His hands had changed position. They were now heading forward, caressing her sides, his thumbs doing daredevil tricks on her front, the two hands stopping just short of meeting each other.

She looked up at him, something giving her courage to, and touched his cheek. Her fingers brushed his short hair, smooth cheek, and smoother neck and decided to go for it. Rising on tiptoes, she raised her head and brushed his cheek. It was like he froze before his hands moved up to her neck and moved her lips to abandon his cheek and meet his lips. The other hand behind her back, her hands on his chest, distracting him a little bit, they stayed like that till a sudden sound made them pull apart.

She cursed in her mind as she saw her ride back home approaching. She wished this could go on for longer. She wished she’d met him six months earlier when he’d played a less last-thing-ever part. She wished so many things, but as they demurely walked back to the decided pick-up point, she quelled every thought and composed her face. Her parents could never find out…

Experiment

The night had mellowed into quiet, comfortable togetherness and the glasses lay on the ground, ignored for the time being. They'd served their purpose well and were now enjoying a well-deserved rest. Their users were lying on the ground, danced out and chatting.
Slowly, they fell silent, sitting together and enjoying the buzz.
I leaned out and touched the cheek so near my own, pulling her closer into a hug that slowly shifted, almost imperceptibly into more. My hands moved lower down the soft skin and along a form so similar to her own, enjoying the slightly forbidden element of this. We shifted a little so that she could shift her hands in similar ways, both slipping under the token covering of the huge tshirts to send goosebumps down each other's arms. It was like touching a mirror-response.
Slowly, we brought our lips together. I tasted the berry on her lips and smiled "You borrowed my gloss?"
She pulled back and laughed. "Yeah, I wanted to taste good."
I pulled her back, kissing her harder. The berry tasted better on her than it had ever done on me. "You can keep it, it's made for you. As long as I can taste it now and again."
The tshirts never stood a chance. They were flung away and lips began their movements down the paths that I'd secretly wanted someone to take for a few months. Her hair was open and flowing along the ground by her side, looking like an illustration. It flung into my face as she changed her position and now dangled by my left cheek.
A sudden sound made us start up and clutch at our tshirts and we were decent again by the time the guys walked in after their smoke and loo-break.

On a Cold Spring Morning

It's funny how, when I'm standing in front of my cupboard in the dark light of morning, I'm wondering what I could wear that would make him want to take it off. I haven't yet succeeded, but it's fun to think of.
I wore a short tank top, butt-hugging jeans and a sweatshirt today and I had the most amazing time imagining his hands hidden by the sweatshirt, under tank top and on my back. It gave me goosebumps to think of, not to mention that habitual kick in the gut. I found myself imagining further. He'd slip his hands under the top and run them up from the low-cut waistband of my jeans as far as they'd go. People would be looking at us, judging us as people do, but little seeing the extent of the intimacy.
In my ideal world, we'd find our niche unoccupied again, and removed from the world. Up we go, then down, and into the secluded depths of the back stairs. "Kiss me, please." I reach for his shirt, pulling his face down to mine so I could get a taste of what I've been dying for. Out of the open glare of public eyes, I can now slip my hands under his tshirt. I love how he feels, I love how his back feels, I love how his torso descends into his jeans. I drag him backwards till my back is against a wall and he pushes himself into me. I can feel him under his jeans and I want him so bad. His mouth is now trailing down my neck, making me bite my lip in order that I don't make a noise as he makes his way along my neck and collar-bone, leaving marks that I would look at later and wish I was here again. His fingers flicking over my breasts are killing my restraint and when his mouth comes down to join them, I lose it. The most erotic feeling in the world comes from being nuzzled like that, and my gut has turned to liquid and is slowly evaporating.
"God, I want you now, I want you so much." I can't help myself, there isn't any coherence nor restraint left. All I can think of is how I want him right there and then. I don't care about the dust, the chance of being caught, any of it. I want to have him inside me, all around me, skin to skin, and I want it now. I want that  feeling of fullness, of his weight on top of me, of his need getting stronger and harder. God, I want it so bad.
And then the second alarm rings, jolting me, still fully aroused, out of my reverie. I don't even know if I'll meet him today, but I wear what I'd decided anyway. What if?
And I run for the door, kicking myself for letting the imagination run away again, but not hard enough, coz I can still feel the kick of desire in my gut.

Chastity

He walked toward me with a smile on his face that turned my ears into fire-breathing dragons and tied everything in my stomach in knots. As we reached within whisper-hearing distance, he pulled me into his arms, and I really felt like I'd been missed.
"Come home..."
It was the first time I shut my mind down and just nodded into his chest. Oh God, the feeling of his arms was heavenly, it felt like everything that had frozen in the little slice of winter I'd lived in was thawing. I ran my hands up his back and held on for dear life. He held me closer still, our hips straining against the blasted jeans and what-not society demanded we use to douse passions.
"I think people are getting offended."
He groaned and we pulled apart.
"I'm dying to kiss you."
All those moments I'd had with him came rushing back to kick me in the gut. I recalled heated kisses against cold tiled dressing-room walls, and wished that I could be as lucky as to be able to sneak more meetings like that.
He had his arm around my waist, and it crept up and brushed the side of my chest. It felt like a thousand fireworks and drove me nearly crazy. I wanted his hands on me, inside me. I was dying to have him inside me, and this necessary chastity was driving me insane.
"God, I want you so badly right now. You should know, you evil, amazing boy."
He let his fingers run around a little more, making my stomach reel. "You have NO idea."