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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1552963-Wake-Up-Call
Rated: 18+ · Draft · Erotica · #1552963
As a teenage lesbian, I've had my share of erotic trists- this is a collection of them.
This first chapter is not finished... which is why I'm posting it! I need creative advice. My partner in this piece is refered to as a he because he is transgender, pre-op.



Wake up Call



         Unaware, he slept soundly, and with light feet, I crept to his stead. I took in his delicate, brawny form, as his chest rose softly under favored sheets. Breathing. His breath came quietly in long gusts. I stood mesmerized by his captive presence for what could amount to ages before I ever touched him. And when I did, he groaned; opened his soft, brown eyes trodden with sleep and dreaming, and struggled between the unconscious and puzzled awake. He uttered a small whine.

         I climbed into bed beside him and rested my leg on his, my hands aching to wander. Patience. I slid them imploringly over his breast. His eyes fluttered closed.

         “Nikko. . .” I murmured. His eyebrows knitted. Relentless as I am, I pressed a soft, seductive kiss on his neck with all the prowess of a grown woman. “Wake up. . . I want you.”

         His silky, pouting lips parted in protest and I pressed my own against them. He wasn’t at liberty to discuss it, I decided. However, he turned his head away from me and grimaced “Now..? Mmm. . . It’s-” He jerked his face in the clock’s direction, “two in the morning.” He grunted. Wrinkled his forehead in irritation. Turned away from me to settle back into his pillow. “Seriously. .?”

         My bottom lip went fat and scandalized. How could he resist? I was throwing myself at him. “Please?” I placed a couple of more desperate kisses on his shoulder with the hope of a now seemingly far away persuasion. He grunted again; mumbled something indistinguishable.

         “But honeyy. . . I’m so horny… I need you, right now. I’m gonna explode if I don’t touch you.” He issued no response. A mewl of more objection rose from my throat that was silenced by the tense of his shoulders.

         I sighed and touched my still determined clit.

         “Fine. . . go back to sleep. . . You’re a loser.”

         I cuddled back into my stuffed puppy and made myself comfortable. Guess I’d have to wait until tomorrow. Defeat. I loathe the word. I cursed the loss and my overactive libido and closed my eyes. Soon I’d forget the unattained victory and sift heavily into dream land.

         As my head filled with fog and my limbs became weak, I dreamt that I was sitting on a cloud, watching Nikko in his restful slumber, loving and precious.



         When I awoke, I don’t recall looking at the time. I remember that it was still dark and mildly alarming, a pitch black cave I’d woken up to. I dislodged an arm from between the bed and the wall, and groggily turned my head back at a mysterious tingling sensation that came from my clit. I could only faintly make out a head bobbing against my ass.

         “Nikk. .?” I managed. Sleep was clinging to my throat.  Lick, lick, lick, lick.  I stretched out my arms and legs. Mmm. . .  arched my back. A hand rested itself on my thigh to hold me down. Daylight.



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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1552963-Wake-Up-Call