Waiting For Sunday

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{twenty-five}

As light filters in through the thin fabric of the drapes in my room, I smile when I feel his lips on mine, fingers threading into my hair.

“Mmm morning,” I hum as his lips gently pepper against my mouth, travelling lazily and slowly down my jaw, onto my neck with teeth delicately nipping at the sensitive skin of my neck. I smile a knowing smile, feeling his hands graze against my body, working their way down my collarbone, travelling to my breasts and slowly running the pads of his thumbs over my swollen and pert nipples.

“That feels so good,” I moan softly.

“It does?” His voice silken and smooth, bringing the familiar warmth I love so much between my legs.

“Mhmm,” I murmur with a nod as his palms knead at my heavy breasts, my mind wishing he’d envelop them with his hot and wet mouth. But before I can plead, his hands begin to move, leaving my chest cold and empty and goosebumps rise encouragingly on my skin as his fingertips trail past my navel and over my hips.

Pulling me close to him, I feel his morning erection press firmly against my stomach, another wide and sleepy smile curls on my lips as I lift my arms and wrap them around his neck. His arms trail back up, wrapping around my waist and pull me on top of him, before gripping my ass firmly and squeezing them, hungrily grabbing at the flesh he loves so much.

“What I would give to fuck you now,” he whispers in my ear.

“Why won’t you?”

“Because I want to make you feel good first,” he coos, his lips pressing gently against my neck, my head lifting so that his lips can trail against the base of my neck.

“You smell so good baby,” he coos again, as his hands grope and knead my ass again.

“You feel good—,” I moan a little as his hand reaches around and between us, fingers sliding slickly between my legs, coating themselves in the arousal my body has already coated me with.

“Always so wet,” he groans, kissing my neck again.

“For you, I’m always wet,” I pant, feeling my heart beginning to thrum in my chest, my lips desperate for him to claim me.

Fingers glide over my folds again, before circling my clit, my back arching.

“Please,” I beg, threading my fingers in his hair, his eyes watching me as I writhe on top of him, “Please,” I beg again.

“What do you want?”

“You know what I want—, I want you to fu—,” I say, my voice whimpering as I’m cut off, his mouth crashing against my own, his fingers taking my breath away as they sink inside me.

“Oh— my—,” I stammer as they circle and curl inside me, come hither movements hitting the spot that makes the warmth and tension in my stomach burn with pleasure, arousal seeping from me, coating his fingers, my muscles tightening around his fingers as he strokes me.

“That feel good baby?” He coos, his voice thick with lust, his chest rising and falling that little bit quicker as he watches me, his eyes darkening as his erection throbs beneath me.

“You want me to fuck you?” Oliver breathes lustfully against my neck.

“I do,” I whimper, biting my lip as his fingers continue their delicious assault inside me.

“What about me?” Jake asks me.

My eyes open and look lustfully towards him and with a smile, I look down at Oliver beneath me, his fingers still pulling in and out of me, and with a smile he nods, and with a hiss as I inhale deeply, I wrap my fingers around Jake's neck and pull him in, kissing him deeply, moaning into his mouth as I feel myself come.

“What do you want me to do,”

“I want you both to fuck me,” I moan as Jake moves behind me, lining himself at my entrance as Oliver's fingers leave my body.

Leaning over his lips, Jake presses against my back as I writhe beneath him.

“We’re going to fuck you so good,” they both tell me.

“I know you both will,” I moan.

My eyes snap open, my heart hammering in my chest as I inhale sharply, sitting up in bed, my lungs gasping as I clumsily search for my glass of water and gulp it down before laying back and wiping at my brow, my skin damp, my fingers gripping lightly at the base of my neck.

With a heaving chest, I feel myself wet below and with a frown, I try to remember what the hell I just dreamt about. Oliver. Jake. They were both there, both in my bed, both touching me, teasing me, kissing me.

Shit.

Resting my arm above my head, I lay in silence, the morning light beginning to shine into my room. What the hell was that?

I dreamt about them both, both of them in my bed. I needed to speak to him, I couldn't just tell the man I had to reject that I couldn’t be with him, not because I didn’t love him, but because I didn’t want to lead him on, make him feel like I wanted it to work out. That wasn’t fair. I knew who I wanted to be with, I just needed to find the courage and stop being such a coward. It wasn’t fair and I didn’t want him to hate me, although I knew that was a possibility.

It’s not like I can walk into his apartment and tell him that he wasn’t good enough because he was but he just wasn’t what my heart wanted, not anymore.

Checking my phone, I sigh when I see the clock flicking from 6.59 am to 7 am. My alarm sounds, a slow and ethereal sound playing softly from the tiny speaker on my phone, and as I dismiss it, I pull back the covers, and wearily climb from my bed, padding down to the bathroom.

As I stand in front of the mirror and pull my toothbrush from the small cup in front of me, squeezing on the toothpaste, I place it in my mouth and press the small round button, starting the vibrations of the toothbrush against my teeth.

You need to tell him today.

I decide on talking to Amalia again when I get to work. She has a break today in between classes at 11, so maybe she can help me find the balls I need to let this man down.

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