Floating up into consciousness I perceived next to me an inviting warmth coupled with a very attractive scent. I sighed appreciatively, snuggled into it, and was pulled closer. Gradually I identified the scent's composition as partly made up of some obscure but ridiculously arousing cologne, and partly just the even more arousing and inimitable essence of a man. Suddenly I recalled the source of this masculine bouquet: Josh.
I pulled away from Josh's body and peered up. He was on his elbow with his cheek in his palm and was looking down at me sporting an amused expression. I became very aware of our closeness and the distracting sensation of his free hand on my hip, lazily massaging and running his fingertips in light patterns across the skin exposed between my top and skirt. He smiled, "Hi."
"Oh, man. I am
so
sorry, Josh; I'm not being a very good hostess falling asleep on you like that. I swear it was the movie, not you –"
"Oh, it's no big deal. Doctors prescribe me all the time as a powerful sleep aid. But watch out – I'm addictive," Josh grinned.
I chuckled and smiled consideringly up at Josh. Though this particular comeback was a very small example of his powers, he always entertained me fairly skillfully and often with his impressive wit. It was only one of a number of surprising, delightful, and all too rare characteristics I had discovered in Josh. There was also the attentiveness; I had never felt so completely focused on and genuinely listened to in my life. Because of it missing from a previous relationship, Josh did not tolerate a lack of clear communication. Most women bemoan how unrealistic is the desire for a man to ask what she's thinking and who, when she hesitates, insists on hearing her thoughts. I was also very appreciative of his calm, mature bearing. I considered all these characteristics luxuries after the comparatively uncouth males I had met.
On top of all that Josh was a real looker in my humble opinion. He had cheeks you just know used to get pinched a lot by anonymous aunts at family reunions. Though this might imply childlike cutesiness, any such association ceased at the permanent five o'clock shadow along his jaw. His matching dark hair was in a generous Caesar cut. His lips weren't especially provocative in any conscious way I could discern but nevertheless consistently compelled in me a desire to kiss them on sight. He was 6 feet even and had an average build – and by average I don't mean American average as in morbidly obese; I mean not too fat, not too lean – just right. But the most attractive part about Josh's appearance to me were those intense, heavy-lidded, Technicolor eyes of his. His own description of them across the phone and the ambiguous photos I'd seen of him online hadn't prepared me for the reality of his gaze: the irises seemed to not be able to make up their mind as to what color to settle on. Thus they had decided on a vibrant burst of green, brown, and blue.
Meanwhile, back at the Batcave, Josh was patiently waiting out my study of him, steadily returning my gaze, and there was still that distracting, tantalizing feeling of his fingers playing at my hip. I had come out of my reverie into a pretty charged moment. I was considering climaxing the sexual tension with a bold kiss when Josh murmured, "Wanna play a game?"
One of my eyebrows went up. "A game?"
"Yup," he replied.
"Hm. What kind of game did you have in mind?"
"'Josh Says,'"he answered as he rose and stood at the edge of the bed. "Only you don't have to listen for the 'Josh Says' part," he said smirking. "You just do whatever I say."
I was silent as if considering deeply whether I wanted to play, then took on a bored look and shrugged. "Ohh, I
guess
. Since there's nothing
better
to do."
Josh chuckled. "Trust me, you'll have fun. And the nice thing about this game is that
everyone's
a winner."
I sat up in front of him with my legs folded under me. "Ahh. Sounds like my kinda game. So, what's my first order?"
Those heavy-lidded eyes were intent on me when he directed, "Unbutton my pants."
Erotic anticipation shot through various areas of my body. I wasn't sure if I could stick to playing by the rules of this game without any unbidden improvisations. I took a breath and reached for his fly. I undid the button and pulled his zipper down, then returned my hands to my thighs and looked at him for further instruction. It was a fight to not stare at what I had exposed before me, right on eye-level: Josh apparently didn't feel obliged to wear undies. So far all I could see were short curls of dark hair.
"Good," he praised. "Now. Reach on in there and whip it out."
I chuckled and reached on in there. My eyebrows shot up when I grabbed hold of it and whipped it on out, turning it this way and that. I unconsciously exhaled a half-moan as I admiringly appraised Josh's equipment. The man had some nice girth to him and was, as they say, rock hard. I squeezed him, marveling at the velvety, healthy-pink skin encasing the steel core and he jerked in my hand. I bit my lip in anticipation of feeling the initial resistance of something large trying to fit into something small and then the subsequent stretching fullness that would follow.
I leaned forward, inhaling his scent deeply. I was just opening my mouth when he pulled his hips back and grabbed my wrists. "
Ah, ah, ahhh
