Category : Adult

Sub Category : Erotic

She needed to think. Today had been nice, really nice. She was so thankful to have Cyril in her life again, but something about being around him drove her emotions crazy. And nowadays, that was almost never a good thing. Especially after what happened last time he accidentally brushed her hand in the diner. 
She can never go back there again.
Trish sighed, and plopped herself onto the worn couch in her book-crowded living room. They had gone to the library, at her request of course. She had heard there was an old demonology tome there that might help the situation. She found the book, of course, and it was now sitting on her coffee table, taking up more space than most of the books she brought home with her. The day left her feeling jittery, unable to concentrate. The way he smiled at her made her insides curl around on themselves. It was stupid, she knew. They were together, once-a long time ago, they were practically kids back then. Somewhere along the way, things got complicated, and he got hurt somehow. She brought a hand to her head, guilt churning inside her. 
Cyril was always so sweet. He seemed so unsure of himself nowadays, and it just made her want to...
She didn't quite understand what, nor did she want to dig too deep into it, really. She hurt him once, and now she doubted that she would ever have an opportunity to act on any of these crazy emotions stirring inside her. She groaned, turning on her side. She wished her mind would just stop for once.
Instead, she found herself overanalyzing everything, especially involving him. He had gotten her coffee, while she searched the bookshelves. Just the way she liked. He always knew.  The feeling pulled at her chest, and threatened to explode. Possibly in a literal sense. 
"Forget it, Trish...forget iiit.." She breathed to herself, desperately trying to push her feelings down. 
She felt like she could crawl out of her skin. Maybe, she thought, turning to lay on her stomach, meditation would help. 
Yes, of course, meditation. 
She sat up, the sudden plan renewing her energy. Perhaps she should change out of her clothes first. As cute as they were, the retro shirts she enjoyed wearing were astonishingly restricting. She assumed they werent built for women with her body shape. She climbed from the couch, and ventured into her messy bedroom. 
Piles of books were littered about almost everywhere, except of course, on the bookshelves. She stepped around a few growing monuments to literature, and pulled open her dresser.
Just a pajama top, she thought, grabbing something at random and tossing it onto the bed behind her. 
It took her a moment or so to undo all the buttons on her blouse, but once she did, she tossed it into the laundry hamper in the corner without much care. Her bra came off quickly next, along with the accompanied sigh of relief.
Best part of the day, she thought with a laugh.
She hopped onto the bed, and pulled on the simple red shirt with a star trek logo above the left breast.  It was one of her favorites, and it soothed her slightly. She layed back onto the bed, with a sigh.
Part of her felt achingly lonely. She had friends of course, Mari would always be there for her, and of course there was Cy. She rolled over, grabbing a pillow close to her. Part of her hoped he would always be there too. 
The thought made her insides scream at her, and she hugged the pillow close to her, hoping it qould help alleviate it. Naturally, it did nothing. 
Right, right-she thought, releasing the pillow. Meditation. She let out a held breath, and sat up on the bed. 
Getting into the lotus position, she tried to steady her breathing, and just let things go. Just breathe, she thought to herself. In and out, in and out. She tried her best for quite a few minutes, but a growing warm sensation in her face ruined her concentration.
"God damnit..." she mumbled, flopping back onto the bed. The warmth in her face was annoying. Not unpleasant, but annoying. She knew, of course that she must be blushing something fierce. Trish rolled onto her side and let out yet another extended sigh. Clearly nothing would come of today if she couldn't control her feelings. At the very least, it would be nice if they would subside enough to avoid a disaster in her apartment. The last thing she needed was more mess in here, or worse, a fire. Maybe if she just called him, the thought came. Surely talking to him would bring some release. She managed to pull herself up off of the bed, and into her living room again. Her phone sat on top of the large tome on the coffee table. It seemed, that it was staring at her. 
'Go ahead, call him. Make an idiot out of yourself.' It seemed to say. Her insides churned again. She thought on the feeling for a moment.
Butterflies. 
That was the term people often used. She had no clue why somebody would name something this unpleasant after such a delightful creature, but whatever. She sat down on the couch, eyeing her phone warily. 
What would she even say?
'Oh, hi Cy. I just can't stop thinking about you, and the way you make me feel, so I thought I'd call you.' She groaned in dismay, flopping herself onto her back. 
Why was she so stupid? She chided herself silently, she can't do that. 
What would he say?
Probably some french expletive, unsure of how to respond to such a sudden confession. 
What if he was feeling the same way? Trish turned to look at the phone. 
What if, he was feeling the same tortuous sensation in his chest? 
She sighed, a bit contentedly at the dumb thought. The idea that the shorter man might actually return her feelings. 
She could practically swoon at the thought. But it was just that, a thought. She looked at the phone again, having momentarily been lost in her daydream. The butterflies seemed to calm a bit at the wistful thoughts. 
If Cyril felt the same way, that same, foreign aching need to be near the other. That would be astounding, she mused. The thought of holding him close to her, sent shudders involuntarily through her. 
She wanted to be able to be a rock for him, strong and dependable. But everytime he was near her, she felt foolish and weak. Even now, just thinking of them together, running her hands through that messy hair of his. 
A few books flew off the shelf, breaking Trish from her reverie.
Oh. oh.
She hadn't really even thought of it before, she mused as she stood to retrieve what had fallen from the shelf.
A copy of the Kama Sutra. And some trashy old romance novel. Well then. 
The warm feeling returned to her face as she placed them onto the shelf. Why did she even get the Kama Sutra? She shook her head with a laugh. Probably when she was dating around for a while.
She sat back down on the couch, and stared at the phone again. She really hadn't thought of him before like that. Well, maybe when they were younger. But, now...well. 
What if...he had? What if Cyril thought about it, that strange butterfly feeling in his gut, and the desire to hold her? And to...other things. 
Trish breathed heavily, laying back on the weathered couch cushions. The electric feeling when he touched her, even by accident was enough to make everything in her to go haywire. Maybe this was why she couldnt think. Maybe it had been too long? Once everything had begun to go crazy and magic became disastrously real to her, she hadn't really been with a man. She had too much going on, there was no way she could possibly focus any energy on that. But maybe she needed it? 
She hadn't even touched herself in several months. And now, with these growing emotional feelings, it was only natural for her body to crave something more.
Despite her rationalization, she still felt a twinge of shame. He was so sweet, and in such a dark place mentally, she had no right to even think of him that way. Especially after he had been hurt by her back then. 
She sighed deeply, her hands holding her face in dismay. 
These feelings were far more than just distracting, now that she had realized the full extent of them. Patricia felt shame for even thinking it, but she wanted him. Badly.
She felt her whole body go warm at the thought of it. Making him feel...good. being able to be there for Cy more than just emotionally, she wanted to touch him, and have him touch her, and just--
Fuck. The phone rang.
She practically lept out of her skin at the interruption. It buzzed around on the large book, playing the theme to 'Doctor Who' softly. She peered over at the caller ID. 
Fuck.
"Hhi" She answered the phone, the tone in her voice shocking her for a moment.
"Yyeah, I'm fine, did you forget something at the library?" Her whole body felt warm, and slightly panicked.
"Oh, yeah sure. Umm, when?" She looked up at the clock for a moment. "Yeah, I'll be there. Don't worry." She hung up the phone and let out the breath of air that she didnt realise she was holding in. 
Fuck.
Why can't she just get control of herself? She slid down against the couch, wondering what the hell she was going to do now.
Maybe, she thought, picking herself up from the floor. Maybe she just needed to get one out, really quick. Then she would be able to think, and everything would be okay. Yeah, yeah. Just really quick, don't even think about it. Don't even think about anything. Perfect plan. 
She walked into her bedroom, and as she laid down, and slid a hand under her shirt, she began to realise that this actually was a terrible plan this actually was. 
The thoughts cane, vividly then, almost as a dream. She was all but helpless to stop them. 

He was nervous, she could tell, but still, he tried his best. His unpracticed hands clumsily cupped her bare breasts, constantly glancing up at her, unsure of himself. She smiled reassuringly at him.
Keep going. 
He swallowed hard, and his hands experimented with her pert nipples. He was certainly no expert, but he was heartfelt. She sighed contentedly, and ran a hand through his hair, urging him on. 
He gulped, leaning forward, and kissing her there, sloppily, experimentally, and after looking up at her momentarily for an 'ok', eagerly. 
He was practically voracious, and she sweared she felt him moan against her. 
It was shockingly flattering, and extremely arousing. The smaller, stocky man was practically the perfect height for this, she mused.

Trish was jolted out of her near-hallucinogenic masturbatory session, by her phone ringing in the other room. 
"...well." She breathed, putting a hand to her head, in slight shock from the experience. "That was certainly...something." she heaved a breath, clearly unable to get the little man off her mind. 
Trish hopped off her bed, and walked out to the living room again, to answer the phone.
She looked down and furrowed her brow in minor confusion.
"Hhello again!" She said with a slight laugh. It was kind of rare for her to get called this often. And honestly, rarer to have him call her. It was almost more than a bit unusual. Part of her twinged with guilt about what she had just been doing. 
"Oh, at 6 instead?" She looked up at the clock again. It was half past four, she held her head slightly and let out a heavy breath. "Nono, dont worry. It's totally fine, I'm okay with it. I'm just...tired, sorry, heh." She was not the best liar.
She felt like hyperventilating by the time the conversation was over.
What the hell did he need to talk about that it couldn't wait until 7? Part of her felt a little paranoid, as though somehow he knew about the filthy thoughts swimming through her head.
But, She felt like she was going to explode if she didnt finish what she had started, and it would be much better to see him when she was done with this whole thing. 
Just don't think, she tried to remind herself, settling down on the couch and unbuttoning her jeans. They slid effortlessly off her legs, and she left them on the floor beside the couch. 
'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here' warned her panties. She looked down, and suddenly she had wished she had worn something different today. Despite the slightly ominous message on her underpants, Patricia tried her best to make herself comfortable. She palmed herself, and tried to melt back into the couch.
Just don't think.

He knelt between her legs, awkward and endearing as ever. He smiled bashfully up at her as he explored down there. One of his hands was beneath him, trying his best to quietly deal with a quickly growing issue, while the other experimentally circled it's fingers around her moist area. She shuddered involunatrily, her thick thighs shaking gently around him. He huffed a bit, as though feeling a bit proud at elicitng such a response from her. He spotted what would anatomically be referred to as the clitoris, and tried his best to gently rub around it.
His pale face suddenly flushed more, and he glanced, away, having thought of something.
"C-can I umm..." he cleared his throat a bit, and swore under his breath. He practically squeaked out the next words, quite bashfully. "Can I...umm..can I taste you?" He was practically beet red in the face after sputtering out the question. 
Trish grinned down at him, nodding her head eagerly at the thought. 
"Do anything you want, Cy. It's okay."
It's okay.
He leaned in further, and tried to push her legs apart more to make room for himself, looking up at her once again, bashfully unsure of himself before nuzzling into her. 
Again, no expert, but he certainly had a deal of enthusiasm. He breathed her in, practically relishing in it. He languidly began to lick at her, in long, smooth strokes. Her breathing hiked a bit, and he looked up at her, suddenly worried.
Keep going.
He looked reassured, and a bit dopey, returning to his previous work. 
Eventually his hand which was previously exploring the area, pressed a finger into her, as his tongue tried to focus on that sensitive button. 
She bit back a moan in reply, hands tangling into his messy bi-colored hair.
That was all the encouragement he needed, groaning into her huskily and adding a second finger to join the first. 
As the pressure within her began to build, she started to grind against him, pushing his now three fingers further into her. She could tell he was close to, as a stream of 'merde' and 'foutre' streamed out of him, between the occasional groan. 
Her thoughts blurred into nothingness as she came, hard around him, everything practically buzzing. 

Her phone buzzed and played it's tune, and blearily Trish answered it without so much as a glance at the name.
"Hhello?" She asked, breathlessly. When the voice on the other line spoke, she froze. Immediately she looked up at the time, and grabbed for her pants.
"I-I'm fine, I'm just finishing up some stuff here, heh..." Her voice still sounded thick and heady, and she cursed herself silently for losing herself like that. 
"The usual coffee shop, right? Yyeah, I'll be right there. Don't worry." She attempted to laugh, but ot came out unfamiliar. She stood up, and awkwardly tried to pull on her pants with one hand, while staying on the phone with the other. "I'll see you in a few, Cy" She hung up the phone, and nearly threw it across the room in embarassment right after. 
Her pants, finally on, she slumped onto the couch and put her head into her hands. 
Don't think, Don't think. What an idiot I am, she thought angrily to herself. She took a deep breath and stood, walking into her bedroom to change back into a bra before heading out.
How in the hell she managed to spend nearly 2 hours touching herself, she had no idea. But damn, it was good. If only she could just stop thinking for a bit.
She hurried out of her apartment, grabbing her phone before she left.