Is how he'd describe it
It : An extremely repulsive yet compulsive urge to unearth,
Or kill - End - transcend.
He felt 'it' when he looked at her, however 'it' floated like spit on the surface of a pool of much more intense emotions like love and lust. A thick - neon - colored pool of emotions swirling around inside him, nearly oozing out of his veins - everything with him was intense - immense, forcing him to the precipice of control.
If she so much as blinked wrong he would kill her.
She was so full of emptiness.
It was how someone was to feel after wasting her years and love on men who did not belong to her, years of praying to the confusion within her to bring her the one. Each day began with an urge to release the emerging rain of sadness that hid behind her huge brown eyes.
He was the first thing she felt. In a long time. That dangerous flutter inside and the silence, where everything was enchanted and moved in slow motion, where she felt her whole being yearned for him.
Cliche as it may sound, she spoke to him with her eyes.
They had never actually said a word to each other before, living in the same building you might consider it strange, living in the same building for well over 8 months - dare I say - even stranger.
But she spoke to him, with her eyes and her body, she spoke to him. Today she called him, she led and he followed , patient and obedient he followed, a somewhat dangerous and predatory swagger became of the way he towered behind her.
The air was like it had been infused with her essence -
*'Infuse: fill; pervade.
e.g : "her work is infused with an anger born of pain and oppression" - Google*
- he felt the air that she now possessed on his skin, it came prickly, like electricity - it gave him goosebumps.
He followed her through the previously mysterious door, into the room he had previously only imagined, he looked around swiftly for the tiger he always imagined would be resting elegantly by her caramel sofa, or the old school blinds he thought would filter the sun and give the room a somewhat sepia effect. Her room smelt like soul consuming incense, it had a scanty overlook - there was no tiger - and her bed was impossibly neat.
She stopped in front of her dresser and he tried to reach out and touch her, she leaned away from reach so he let out a grunt underneath his breath - it struck him as terribly upsetting .
She stared too long. Fidgeted with her hair and her fingers. There was a way he made her feel.
She knew he followed her as she left the café and headed to her room. Her nervous legs managed to get her to her dresser. She could feel his presence, he was going to touch her when she moved. That was when she realized she had been holding her breath.
She turned to him then, watching his irritated expression change to shock as she unbuttoned her shift shirt dress.
This is what it means to be under a spell:
The shirt dress had ten buttons, two were already undone, no cleavage was showing but you could tell that her breasts were healthy, firm.
She unbuttoned the dress completely showing off skin as smooth as he imagined (he wondered what it would taste like).
He wasn't sure whether to touch her or not, she felt his reservation so she took off the dress completely, walking towards him gracefully and on her toes - in charge.
She spoke to him with her eyes and her movement, telling him to watch - it was show time.
She noticed his uneasy expression, but she knew he wouldn't refuse her. She stood before him, completely bare allowing him time to take the complete view in and watched him as his eyes travelled her body in reverence.
She went to him with a confidence that shocked even her. Right then she was a goddess and she was powerful. She touched him on the face and he flinched, she took his hands and led them to feel her breasts, down her waist till they settled on her ass. That was when something in him snapped and he pulled her close and kissed her like he meant to devour her.
She couldn't breathe, not when his mouth was everywhere on her almost at once. She felt a tingle here and there and everywhere. The delicious pull in the pit of her stomach confirmed he was doing the right things. His fingers felt her there, she was so wet, blossoming for him.
He spread her on the bed and she opened up for him. It felt so good being joint to him like that. She wrapped her legs around his waist and took him deeper inside her. She moved against him slowly and delicately, as the pleasure built up, she wanted to feel everything, what it felt like to be with a man again. He grunted then, it sounded like a plea and a promise at the same time.
He genuinely felt like he would explode with pleasure.
He wanted to hold - and lick - and suck - and flick gently with his thumb - and hit from behind - again and and again - and hug - and squeeze - and bow in the presence of - at the same time.
However, as it sometimes is in such moments of intense pent up - bursting at the seams - lust, he nutted after a few minutes (very few/too early) , convulsing slowly with pleasure as he crawled to and beyond the peaks of satisfaction.
The episode ended and he exhaled deeply letting himself go, on her - weak and defeated. Surrendering.
She perceived he wasn't this laid back and responsive with the other women he had been with. Control freak.
Since he was letting her have the floor, she intended on giving him a show.
She was so excited, she felt a few years younger again. It had been a long time since anyone wanted her this way.
She smiled childishly, bending in front of him, so he could have a good view of her ass and took his shaft in her mouth. She didn't take her eyes off him. Kissing, licking, sucking.
He closed his eyes
He had broken the gates of ecstasy.
Now, he floated on the surface of his own pleasure.
His dick bobbed and weaved, weak and at the mercy of a desirous tongue, not totally defeated and open to rejuvenation.
She was making love to him and he swore to reward her -
She gave him head till he regained vigor -
She sent blood flowing through his veins again -
She stopped, he exhaled , she changed positions so she sat on him , her back to his face, reverse.
Like the mighty warrior princess she rode, valiantly and with definite purpose.
He let her continue before switching things up.
She obliged, spreading her legs completely as she made her way towards the wall, she wanted to arch her back (the curse of eagerness) -
- he moved with his knees, sore with intent, his dick firm, swinging slowly as one burdened with the full weight of youthful lust, steady, leading the way -
She bent over, taking her eyes off him so she could see as she bent , barely settling one palm on the wall before he entered her, thrusting hard causing her to lose the little grip she had mustered -
- She lost her balance and smacked her head against the bed headrest awkwardly such that there she smacked her lower teeth on the wood in a way you would consider extremely unfortunate , shattering the middle teeth as the resistance from the table sent her head back up in a split second, breaking her head and piercing through the sudden ephemeral silence with a loud crack that put an end to even a Planck length of doubt that she was dead.
It was terribly upsetting.
He screamed at her, shaking her violently demanding that she get up.
She didn't. She was dead and it was terribly upsetting.
He screamed from his bowels, a macabre sound like someone who had his arteries injected with damning confusion, he clenched his fists in the air and struck her on the chest, even more annoyed by the response, or the non response from the dead girl in front of him so he struck her again on her face, feeling her jaw crack as he made contact. He continued to hit her again and again until blood started to ooze from her mouth -
- His pupils dilated in shock, striking her face one more time before slumping on the bed, hands bloodied and in pain -
- It was terribly upsetting that she died