The Sex Dream

AN: This is a part of a longer fanfiction I have written elsewhere. Rory is a single mom, struggling to fully get over her exes, Logan and Jess, the latter being also the father of her daughter, who is currently staying with him for the weekend.

The Sex Dream

What started out as a slow and delicate kiss, had taken a rapid course for something much more urgent. Tongues entwined, probing each-other's mouths, tasting the lingering scotch. His hand squeezed her breast through the thin sweater she was wearing, making her want to shed that layer as quickly as she could. The feverish kiss hardly parted, both mouths reddened, while she did that.

That deeply seductive, almost cocky smile, that decorated his face as he took in her eagerness, haunted her still.

Rory's fingers clumsily fidgeted with the buttons of his dress shirt, finally exposing his chest. He had the chest Rory was not really used to just being able to touch like that - it was the kind of chest one saw in magazines - lean muscles and a nice firm sixpack - and all hers to indulge in. She was just beginning to feel comfortable doing this with him, it was her second, fine - technically third, time with him. But with each time they were becoming confident, demanding - knowing what they wanted from the other, and able to ask it.

His hand ventured up, undoing her bra, which couldn't have happened soon enough, as she ached for his touch.

Next, with their lips locked, Rory's body was pinned between the wall, a blue The New Pornographers poster to be exact, and his need, his bulge pressing against her core. She'd never felt such force before. It was all consuming. Rory gyrated her hips against him, telling him in her wordless way how much she wanted him - it would be a while until she was actually express what she wanted with actual words. But already now she couldn't get enough of him.

His hands brushed strongly against her skin, grabbing her in a way that was a little controlling yet at the same time somehow gentle, causing her to moan.

Hastily he stepped out of his pants and shoes, not caring if he ruined the fine Italian leather in the process. Rory's vision was hazed, being high on him, lips still remaining in contact, while he did that. Rory was wearing a skirt, thank god, and as per some miracle her brand knew thigh-highs, which she had decided to spend her last laundry money on at the last minute, having learned he had a thing for lingerie.

But he still seemed too far, and her knee went up to his hip, craving more of him. She had no idea if she could hold that position, but she wanted to feel more of him. She was rewarded by his bulge pressing right against her clit, almost making her go crazy with need. Thankfully, she didn't need to hold that position longer than that, the strong grip going around her thighs and lifting her up.

On instinct Rory wrapped her legs around his hips, her calves now locking as the passionate kiss intensified, their hips humping together.

His forcefulness made her grunt as he entered, having just pushed aside her stretchy thong, leaving her breathless at the intensity of the move. He held her up, like no guy had ever held before, as if she was as light as a feather, while he pistoned in and out of her wetness. The slapping sounds still echoed in her mind, its pace picking up. He felt so good.

Suddenly the feeling of fullness disappeared, and something, someone, turned her around, pressing her with her chest against the wall roughly. The hands that fondled her breast from behind her felt different, they were different. Cupping her breast he squeezed her nipples between his fingers. Rory definitely knew that squeeze, she also knew who knew how much she liked it. She moaned, forehead and palms against the wall, red brick wall this time, and she bent herself a little and raised her lower body onto her tiptoes, aiding him for better access. An unprotected sheath entered her, she could tell - and filled her with his warmth to the brim.

His thrusts were slower, more deliberate, but without a doubt dominant. Then a low murmur whispered to her ear, "I'm going to fuck you so hard," the voice warned. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that I'll knock you up again," the voice echoed.

While the thought of baby making had a certain turn-on for her, at that point Rory recalled only feeling panic. With that feeling Rory woke, still panting and her heart pounding. It hadn't been his finest moment, rather his desperate measure to change her mind about them during one of their quarrels.

These had been real occurrences, not just the figment of her imagination, being able to match each of those encounters to a specific man even without looking at their faces. Once again she was left flustered, sweaty and left without her release. This was happening too often. It was frustrating, and annoying.

It was still dark. She was bed alone, the time showing only just past 2 AM. She recalled she was also all alone in the house, hence she didn't think twice about opening her bedside drawer and finding the only thing that could help. Her beloved Soraya 2 felt smooth against her hand, and knowing it's efficiency rate, Rory sighed deeply as she slipped it down her already moist slit, having wiggled her underwear down to her thighs. The only trouble was that it was cold - god, she would've liked to feel real throbbing flesh between her legs right now.

She teased herself just a little with just the vibrator, before turning her favourite pattern and intensity. Little by little the feelings from her dream, the positive ones, returned, playing in her mind like a movie. Her well turned-on body was soon driven over its edge, even allowing herself to be quite audible about it. After all, she was all alone.

As she came down from her high, feeling pleasantly warm and soaked between her legs by now, she realized this couldn't go on like this. There was only so much a mechanical instrument and her dreams sufficed to. And if she did nothing about it - it was just a matter of time she'd end up scraping at Jess' doorstep again. That couldn't happen again. The bad thing was that the real life bar was set pretty damn high if one went by this particular dream, making her smile a little, as she slipped back to sleep, her vibrator, while no longer buzzing, still within her grasp.