Awake

I don't remember becoming awake, only aware.

The smooth glide of my skin under my hands, down my ribcage, across my hip. I am so fucking smooth and soft there in the indentation of my waist. The press of my hand feels the bump of my hip bone pressing firmly into that hollow just above the joint. The spot you would grab to hold me firmly in place while fucking me from behind. I am so warm.

My body is warm and smooth. And I am only aware of a hand on my skin and skin under my hand. Sliding up brushing the sides of my breasts. Suddenly aware of my blanket, my warm fuzzy blanket pressed me down. Huh, I must be in bed.

Still, there is skin in my hand and a hand on my skin. Ever sliding and ever smooth, so fucking warm. Pressing and feeling the firmness on muscle and the hardness of bone. Then I brush directly over my breast. No firmness or hardness, infinite softness and the thump of my heart. I like this warm, soft place full of me.

My hand circles my breast. The palm brushing the nipple while my fingers stroke the skin. A deep, satisfying feeling of goodness and right fills my body. This is what perfect feels like. But weren't there supposed to be two?

I roll on my back. And my right hand comes up to circle my right breast, echoing my left. My contented little sigh seems to echo in the room. The feeling of rightness doubles, tingling through my body. Letting the warmth of my blanket hold me to my bed as I circle over and over. Keeping my whole areolas under my palms, the friction of skin on my skin making my nipples form hard pebbles. The feeling of rightness becoming one of pleasure. Everything that is perfect and good building under my skin. My breathing is the only sound, but the heartbeat in my hand is echoed in my ears.

I need more. I move my fingertips to my nipples, concentrating the pleasure into one intense spot. Butterfly touches sending flickers of pleasure along my skin and nerves. My whole body responding to this one touch in two places. My skin almost jumping and feeling a tightness in the muscles across my hips.

I need more. Rolling my nipples between my fingers. The sudden change from friction to pressure doubles my pleasure again. Little movements of my muscles across my body rubbing my skin across my blanket. The texture leaves sparks of pleasure across my skin. Only this moment, it could go on forever. This is so so good, so perfect, so right. I don't want to ever stop.

Just a trickle, a drop rolling down like a heavy dew in the morning, pulls my focus down across my body. My skin needs more hands, more stroking. My hands slide down off my breasts. Once again pressing and squeezing my flesh. The smooth sensation of skin stroking against my palms. The pleasure burrows deeper, changing from sparks to heat. Everywhere I touch glows with pleasure. I can not see it, but I can feel the blush of my skin in the heat.

I find my hip bones again. My hands press into the joint. The pressure keeps my hips still for a moment. The muscles are tightening deep inside of me. My heartbeat is in my clit. A deep, grinding pleasure leaks wet and slick on my thighs. My hips start to circle, silently begging for more, as my hands let go on a slide over my thighs.

Smooth skin is now slick and my palms are now sticky. Spreading my moisture as I press my thighs to open wide. The stretch of my tendons is an anticipation for what comes next. My fingertips trail up my thighs, feeling drenched. A little tickle makes me clench my thighs pressing them even farther until my knees touch the bed. The tent of the blanket makes it feel so humid. Stroking my thighs and feeling the gushes every time I come near my lips, but not touching for the sheer enjoyment of feeling myself drip. A warm, wet puddle forming under me. Pressing in closer from both sides. A soft pressure that makes me aware of my heartbeat here, and throughout my body.

I need more. My fingers slide along my lips. Up, down, around, and around, one hand circling, edging, closer and closer to slipping inside. The other pressed against my mound feeling the ridge of my pubic bone. Giving my hips something to press against. Liquid satin surrounds my fingers as they dip inside giving me a brief jolt of fire across my body. My hips buck into my hand, making me glad I am holding me in place.

I need more. Right there. Another dip inside my slick folds. My clit is so ready for me it is peeking out. Craving more touch, promising more pleasure. Knowing I can't hold back, I touch it gently. Fire races across my body. I hear a noise and I realize it's me. That sexy whimper in my need becoming real. Again and again, I stroke me. My body is so tight with it. I am afraid to move any part of me but that one fingertip. The center of my body throbs in time with my strokes which are coming quicker and closer together.

I need more. My fingers slip inside my tight warmth. The intensity of pressure quickly becomes an intensity of pleasure. My hand rocking and stroking me inside and out. I can no longer stop my hips from jerking. My thighs twitching as I ride my hand. I can feel the sway of my breasts on my chest and the stroke of my nipples against my blanket feeds the pleasure. My toes curl and point over and over. Wet sounds mingle with hungry moans breaking the early morning quiet. The word please forms in my mind, but I can't tell if I said it or thought it. The frantic energy of the moment is so good, so right, so perfect. I want to hold it a little longer, just a little deeper. No thought, just pleasure, unending. Full and bright behind my eyelids.

I need. I hurt. I want. Pleasure rolled into a tight ball. I need. The pleasure is me, my body. I hurt. It has to come. It is too much, too perfect. I want. I dissolve like liquid light through my skin and out over my hand.

So complete, I forget where I end and the world begins.

I don't remember becoming awake, only aware of a soft trembling under my skin that tells me I am alive and I am perfect.