He’s so fucking hot and his hands are like magic as they sweep along my flesh, teasing me to the brink of insanity. I want him so bad. I press my thighs together to relive the ache, but it doesn’t help, not even in the slightest. It only makes me crave him even more.
His deep, heavy breath is warm against my ear as his fiery hand glides ever so close to the place when I want him to most. I try to move my hips to meet him, but his hand only moves with me, never coming quite close enough. I can feel the massive steel rod under his pants press against my thigh, but I can’t reach it.
Come on, just a little closer
My hand travels down to my pulsing core and I hear his breath hitch, making me squirm with tormenting need. His body is pressed against mine, but not in the place I want him, where I need him. My hand moves faster, bringing me closer and closer while he nips at my neck and chest, setting my skin on fire.
Oh please just fuck me!
I tip over the edge, waking myself up as I muffle the mewl of pleasure against my soft down pillow.
Crap, just a dream. Always just a dream.
I come down from my shallow orgasm and I look over at my alarm clock, 05.58. I let out a groan loaded with frustration, partially because of the unsatisfying orgasm and partially in disappointment that it was just a dream... Again...
Why doesn’t last? That intense feeling in the beginning of a relationship. It always ebbs out, like if you forget to put more wood on the embers in a fireplace. I don’t need much, but trying to keep a fire burning with only ashes is hard. That’s what it feels like.
I flip the duvet away from my body and sit up before turning off the alarm so it doesn’t start blaring in two minutes. I put on my robe, tiptoe to the kitchen and glance at the couch in the living room as I pour myself a cup of coffee from the thermos. My boyfriend, Will, usually sleeps on the couch, not because I make him but because it just ended up like that. He snores and I’m a light sleeper. He only ever comes to bed with me if we’re having sex, not that it happens very often anymore and he always leaves right after anyway. Our relationship actually got a little less tense when we started sleeping apart, but I miss waking up next to someone. I miss morning sex, kisses and snuggles, not that he's ever been particularity good at that.
I’m kinda just waiting for either of us to come out any say we’ve had enough. I doubt he’ll do it, he’s too comfortable. We both work, though he works full time and I work 80%, but he still expects me to do everything. I plan our meals, I do the shopping, I cook, I clean, the laundry, the dishes and everything else inside the house. From the minute I wake up, to the second before I fall asleep, I’m either doing something, or planning it.
He always says I’m responsible for the inside stuff, and he’s responsible for the outside “chores”. Yeah right, because the frequency and quantity of those chores are so comparable. Not.
When he gets home from work he sits on the couch scrolling on his phone until dinner is ready. Then he either continues scrolling while watching TV or he goes outside to do God knows what.
I know what you’re thinking, why are you still with him!? Dump his ass! I would say that too, if I wasn’t the one we were talking about.
Even though I can do most stuff for myself, not really relying on him for anything (including my own orgasms) we’ve been together for so long, I don’t know where, or how to start. It was great in the beginning, but within a year he turned into this lazy, privileged pig. He’d get annoyed if I dinner wasn’t ready on time or if I didn’t make his lunch. And he’d have a right fit if I let the laundry sit too long before I folded it. I did all these things for him because I wanted to be nice. Now it's expected, and I'll get hell if I stop, or argue about it.
I can’t remember the last time he kissed me without expecting sex or if he ever called me beautiful, said he loves me or gave me any kind of random compliment.
I finish my coffee and put my cup in the dishwasher that I emptied last night, while he was watching TV. He left his cup on the kitchen counter. Figures. I roll my eyes, put it in with mine and go get ready for the day. Fifteen minutes later, I’m in my car, heading for work.
I have no formal education, just a ton of experience in all kinds of professions. At the moment I work at a large home improvement store. It’s good fun, and perfectly fitting that I’m handy and know a little bit about everything. I have good coworkers and my boss is amazing. I’ve excelled at everything they’ve asked me to do and it feels awesome to have somewhere I fit in, and that appreciates me and my hard work.
Even though it rained heavily last night and it’s still early in the morning, the temperature is quite nice. I push the button to lower my window, crank up the volume and sing along with the music while I pull out onto the main road and accelerate. I close my eyes for half a second on the high note of the chorus and when I open them again I see a car accident just a few hundred meters in front of me.
I stand on my break pedal, my tires screeching as my car skids to a halt. I stare in horror at the scene before me. Three cars are smashed together, a blue minivan and a black sedan, front to front, the third one, a silver Mercedes, looks to have rear-ended the sedan in front of it.
I turn off my engine and turn on my hazard lights. “Hey google, call emergency services.” I say, my voice a little wobbly as adrenaline starts pumping inside me.
“Calling the emergency services.” I hear the app respond from my purse in the passenger seat.
The seconds passes in slow motion as I gawk at the cars, looking for movement and anxiously waiting for the sound of the dial tone. My knuckles are white from the force I’m gripping my steering wheel with, and my jaw is tightly closed as I breathe slow and deep through my flared nostrils.
I finally snap out of it and grab my phone just as it starts ringing. I put it on speaker, lock the screen and stick it in the breast pocket of my bomber jacket and run to my trunk to get the emergency triangle, the first aid kit and my yellow reflective vest.
By the looks of the crash, the lack of movement and sound from the cars, not to mention the dangerous mid-curve location, I already know it’s bad, and it could become a lot worse if I don’t make sure to do these steps to warn oncoming traffic. I run back about thirty meters to the beginning of the long curve and put down the triangle. The other side has a much better view of the crash site and will see it in good time to stop.
I pull the reflective vest over my head as I sprint back to the cars just as someone picks up the phone. “Emergency services.” a female voice says stoically through the speaker phone.
“Hi, my name is Jayla Morrison, there’s been an accident on the main road south of Bryen, my shared location is on, just pull it!” I say loudly, knowing they can do that. “Three cars involved, looks bad, dangerous location. I’m about to assess the passengers!” I huff out between long, strained breaths as I run as fast as my legs will go.
“Thank you Jayla, my name is Lauren, I’m dispatching units at once!”
I skid to a halt as I come up to the first car, the silver Mercedes. The car is empty. I don’t have time to think, I just run to the black car in front, quickly looking inside and seeing a young man, no visible injuries, but that doesn’t mean he’s OK. I try the door to check his vitals but it’s stuck. I’m not wasting time on fighting the door until I’ve had a look at everyone and determined who needs my help first.
In the minivan there's a woman behind the wheel. While I quickly look over her I notice something bright red in the corner of my eye. A rear-facing car seat, and in it, a small child. Immediately move to the back door.
“Hiya sweetheart” I coo, keeping my voice light as I open the door and smile at the little girl in a tutu and pink headband. She had to be about a year old and in some sort of shock. Her eyes are bright and alert as she looks up at me but there are dried tears on her cheeks and she's a little red around her eyes. Besides having cried at some point, I can’t find any injuries, probably because of her car seat facing the right way. Poor people, who knows long long they’ve been here.
“Two adults and a baby, approximately 1 year old, one person unaccounted for” I tell Lauren, keeping my smile and light tone in place so I don’t scare the child. “Baby looks fine, no visible injuries, awake and fully responsive.” I add, letting the girl grab my fingers. She squeezes and pull on them. Good strength and mobility. She even gave me a little smile. She's OK.
“Thank you, first ambulance is about 6 minutes out.” Lauren replies.
“I’m just gonna check on your mama now, do you want this while I see to her?” I hand her the stuffed rabbit wedged between her baby seat and the gray leather seat of the car. She grabs it eagerly and starts twisting it in her little hands. I leave the door cracked while I saw to the mother.
“Female driver, unconscious, breathing evenly but fast, pulse a tad weak, clammy and a little cold skin, bleeding cut on her forehead, no airbag deployed. Binding the wound and continuing assessment.” I state calmly as I let my intuition guide me on. I sound like a robot again, but I don't care, it's how I get through situations like this. Emotions off, instinct on.
I can do this!
I quickly wrap her head with gauze and a bandage from my first aid kit before I look over her body for any other injuries. She seems fine but on impulse I pull up her shirt. Her stomach is a little discolored, red and almost light blue. “Suspected internal bleeding, abdomen discolored. How far is the ambulance?”
“Right around the corner.” Lauren replied.