In The Midnight Hour

The light pitter patter of rain stirred the girl ever so slightly as she slept, though she did not shift or rise from her position. With her back pressed against the soft, feathery mattress below and her limbs coiling about as she relaxed once more into the fabric, a thought or two popped in and out of her head. It went on like this for a few minutes until her brow furrowed, yet she remained in a sleeplike state as she shuffled about on the bed, her legs flailing about some as she did so. There was something off from normality as she did this and the thoughts that continued to plague her brain, keeping her from slipping peacefully back into sound slumber, heightened her senses all the more. So much so, she eventually placed several puzzle pieces together, with her eyes tightly sealed as though even in her sleep, she was struggling to comprehend what on earth was happening to her body.

Tingles began between her legs and the distinct feeling of something hot and wet gliding gracefully between her folds captivated her for a few moments, as her hands, of their own accord, descended from having risen up and gripped the sheets, so that they were able to get a firm grip on whatever was down under. Hair— soft, like silk that flowed freely between her fingers as her back arched up off of the mattress beneath her, eyes snapping open only to be met with pitch black. Tilting her head toward the window across the room, she made note of the darkness outside and upon spotting stars, realised it was the middle of the night and whatever was going on, was ridiculously uncalled for. Believing it to be her imagination and a bloody good one at that, she attempted to swing her legs over the side of the bed, only to find two hands gripping her thighs and holding her in place.

Her grip loosened and her gaze drifted slowly down until her eyes met his, as he continued to lounge there, with his tongue burrowed between her legs. As her heart began to thump wildly in her chest, she released her hold on his hair and stretched her arms back up toward her head, where she gripped and tore at the bedsheets as a result of his administrations. With every flick and stroke of his tongue, the girl found herself believing that particular muscle was the strongest of the lot and whenever she tried to shuffle her hips away from his face, he gripped her thighs tighter and held her down on the mattress, clearly enjoying the position he had her in and not wanting to release her anytime soon. Though she protested, it was only in mild forms and eventually, she learned that if she tried to move away from him, he would simply drag her back into place, where he wanted her.