Up On the RooftopbyAthena_e19©
This is my entry into the winter story competition. Please remember to vote and comment at the end! Have a wonderful holiday!
She slipped quietly to the communal garden atop aher building. It was quiet and cold. The white blanket of powdery snow seemed to dampen out the world. Even the busy street below was quite. Only the sound of her breath curling little clouds of mist before her made a noise. It took her a while to make the final step from the stairwell to the serene peacefulness of the exterior.
Perhaps it was the coat and gloves. Maybe it was the mug of hot chocolate. Or the new scarf she had received in a box from her mother. But one of the things that warmed her slender frame provided the courage she needed to take the next step. And once her warmly covered feet crunched into the pliant surface of the snow blanketed roof top, she would not turn back.
The glistening lights of a city on holiday drew her forward. A random and disorganized smattering of lights glowed in the deep blue of the night sky. Various high rises jutted up from all around her, little lights twinkling and glowing like some decadent mockery of the small evergreens alight in so many homes.
Each of her steps and each of her subtle exhalations drafted a small composition in her head. It was a simple, sweet tune, devoid of words or unnecessary complications. She preferred her music to the ceaseless onslaught of traditional holiday songs that normally played. But tonight it was quiet, and only the music in her head and in her heart played.
Her rosy cheeks climbed a little higher as her full lips pulled back into a satisfied grin. Her bench was empty, as it always was.
No one in the building bothered coming up here in the winter. Twenty degree weather was a big deterrent for most. But not her. Her hands brushed away the pile of snow that had accumulated since she last had visited, clearing a familiar seat with a prime view of the surroundings.
Carefully, she lowered herself into the now bare wood frame of the bench. Her soft feminine backside cushioned the otherwise hard surface, and a pair of thermal pants added to the comfort. The bench felt solid, strong. It was the right embrace for the grand display put on by the clash of man and nature. They had built the tall, strong buildings; defiant and proud. Nature had covered them with snow, lit up the sky, and surrounded them in darkness. Almost as if to prove that whatever they created, she could improve.
The rooftop dweller loved the idea.
She pulled her legs up close to her chest, one still arm trapped between her coat and thighs. The other languidly brought the steaming cup of cocoa to her lips. The first touch of the mug was cool. The ceramic had been caressed a little too long by the air and not by her mouth. It was followed by the cool pinch of whipped cream sliding over her lips and tongue. Then came that delicious biting of the hot chocolate imbibed milk. Her eyes closed, to focus on the familiar and sacred taste of a good cup of hot chocolate. It would bring the angelic smile back to her face.
She would sip quietly by herself. Her mind wandered to her family, to her friends, to the excitement of the coming days. She thought of the New Year and her secret promises to herself. She thought of all that was good in her life and of how much she loved hot chocolate. Her life was not hard and she had much to be grateful for. She promised herself that she would be home next year, and that she would love this year.
Because she was unable to head home for the holidays, she made a promise to herself. That in the quiet loneliness she would not be troubled. The young woman promised that this would be a time of peace and of healthy introspection. The holidays were as much a time to give as they were to receive. And she would give herself the gift of self-adulation. Not arrogance or absorption, just a moment in time where one can adore themselves and appreciate their uniqueness in the vastness of the universe.
She took in a deep cleansing sigh before she sipped softly at her cocoa once more. The cool air flooded her lungs and cleared out any lingering doubts about being alone for the holiday.
For ten minutes she would sit in utter stillness, but for the occasional raising of the warm mug to her lips. And when the cocoa was gone, she would be completely still.
Her thoughts returned to the passionate struggle between what the universe had crafted and what man had. She thought of the push of the two against one another, of their subtle interactions, and blatant assaults. She dwelt on how urgently one needed the other and how often it tried to deny its need. It wanted to be strong and independent, free from any support or kindness. But on occasion that need was flushed out and it was forced to admit and recognize how much it needed the other.
It reminded her of her partners. Of how there was always some subtle tide to their interactions. How one of them was strong when the other was weak. It reminded her of their lovemaking. Of how they denied their own release for the sake of the other.
The same warming sensation that her hot chocolate had brought to her stomach, was carried a little lower.
Beneath several layers of clothing, her heart raced a little faster and her skin tensed in nervous anticipation. Did she dare, her mind wondered?
With that same self satisfied grin on her face, her legs shifted a little farther apart and a little farther from her chest. Her movements would still, her eyes glancing around. They sought out any other chance witnesses to her holiday gift to herself. Her lips parted a bit as her knowing smile grew. Only the City and his lover Nature would witness this intimate moment.
Her eyelids relaxed a bit as her tongue slowly traced the inside of her white teeth. She willed her muscles to relax and the nervous part of her consciousness to be still. Slowly, exotically, she stretched, her back arching and heels sliding farther down the bench till they reached the other arm.
One hand tugged at the fingers of a glove, freeing long slender digits. Patiently they rose to her mouth, sliding between her lips till they touched the tongue that had so lovingly savored her cocoa. The slight saltiness of her skin was a good contrast to the sweetness of the cocoa. Gently her tongue circled the pair and warming them for the task to come.
Pleased with her performance, the fingers slipped from the warm moist embrace of her mouth and into the cool caress of the dry air. Down, over the heavily padded casing of her down coat they slipped. Her heart skipped with anticipation at their intended destination. Beneath the parka her nipples hardened, pressing into the soft cotton of her sweatshirt. Her other hand pressed down over the top of them in an illicit crush.
She whimpered as her soft breasts bowed beneath the pressure of her palm. The other hand had reached its destination, and the two ordained fingers had dipped beneath the waistband of the tight pants she wore.
The young woman savored the anticipation, "the almost, but not quite" placement of her hands. She alone knew what was coming, and her body lusted with her.
She could feel the wetness in her center, she knew the scent of her lust and its flavor. Her mouth watered at the memories awoken by her thoughts. She arched in her bench, her hips thrusting softly with desire. She let out another whimper, for the benefit of no one but herself.
Her fingers slipped further beneath the waist band. Inching downwards over the freshly shaved skin at the apex of her thighs. She was so close to what she wanted. Her hand atop her chest pushed itself into her jacket, diving to a lower layer in an effort to bring about a more intense sensation. It would work.
With a small gasp, her fingers passed over the last of her lightly tanned skin. They found a hard little nub standing guard over the moist chamber beneath. There, with the press of her clothing against them, they would circle. Tauntingly slow, they somehow denied her urge speed up. Of their own volition they acted- their pace torturous and purposeful.
Deep within her core, she felt her desire build from a small romantic wish to a passionate urge. Her lithe body struggled to contain it. Her patience could only last so long.
Her breath was quick and ragged, ill timed and unequal. The small bursts of mist from her lips unfurled and disappeared just as soon as another came.
With a small whisper of her own name she commanded her fingers move farther on. Easily the swollen folds of her labia parted before their intrusion. The pink lips enveloped them, swallowed them deeper and deeper into its inner sanctum. It was not until her own apparel limited her penetration that she stopped.
The rooftop dweller closed her eyes for a moment. This was a crucial moment, the first flex of something within her. And it was as good as she remembered. The fingers curled upward slowly, pressing their tips against the upper wall of her sex while the joint bent back into the floor. A louder, less disguised groan passed through her and into the night air.
"Yes," she whispered to the two observant forces in the darkness. "Yes," she whispered to herself.
The fingers relaxed and then flexed once more. Soon it was a rhythm, one second tensed within her body and the other still. The heel of her palm ground across her clitoris as she slowly screwed her hips down onto the intruding digits. They were just enough to fill and stretch the pliant walls of her twat. Just enough to fill her and make her want more.
Gradually the throb of her fingers within her grew in pace. Slowly the soft lullaby became a crescendo. In the quite of the night, the slurp of her sex and her wetness seemed to carry for miles and she revelled in the freedom.
"Yes," she called out once more, her voice hoarse and husky.
Her tongue licked at her lips as she rocked on her fingers, pushing them as deep as she could into herself.
The pleasure was addictive, intoxicating. It tingled within her, racing up her spine and to her brain where the delight of the caress was appreciated. Over and over again her fingers would plunge into her pussy, parting the glistening folds and burying in her core.
The heady scent of her sex filled the air- escaping through the small opening her wrist brought to the waist of her pants.
She imagined that she was the witness to the mating of the city and nature. He tall, chiseled, and hard. She exotic, passionate, and wanton in her offerings to him. With the image of their two naked bodies writhing in her imagination, her fingers fucked into her.
Their pace was timed to the imagined urgency and desire of the mating. Soon her body was wracked with the sense that the end was nearing, that her climax was upon her. It had risen rapidly from within the wet clasp of her channel and now filled her whole body with a tingling sense of wonder.
And when it finally exploded, she let out a cry that could no doubt be heard at street level. It bounced off of the walls of nearby buildings nd echoed to the sky. It was the triumphant yell of fulfillment of the most heady of needs.
Her pussy spasmed quickly on her fingers, which finally lay still within her. She braced her shoulders and feet against the arms, her sex thrust towards the heaven like some perverse offering of ancient times.
Slowly the waves of pleasure receded and her mind stilled. She slipped her fingers out of her folds and brought them to her lips. Her tongue teased and licked, savoring the flavor of her juices atop the digits. The same coy grin that had greeted the city and the night sky when she stepped onto the roof appeared again.
And once more, the silent night rested serenely.