She knew she was taking a perilous chance as she crept through the dark rooms. Stealthily she moved, careful not to make a sound. As she approached what she knew must be the bedroom, she heard the telltale sounds of his presence: the even, relaxed breathing of a sleeping man.
She'd been lucky; she happened to know his landlord, who had been wickedly happy to hand over to her a copy of the key to the apartment of the man she had known, yet not known, wanted yet never had hope of having. She wasn't sure what she would do once she entered his bedroom. She knew exactly what she wanted to do, but she had no plan, no blueprint to follow. She had no idea what his reaction would be to her presence and she was terrified of the possibility that he might actually sleep with a weapon or even worse, that he would reject her. But she was willing to take the chance. She knew that it would take a daring feat indeed to win the attention of this man. And even if it turned out to be only a one-night stand, at least she would have that.
She stood outside the half-open bedroom door, pausing to collect herself. She realized that, unlike the breathing of the man she was planning to seduce, her own breath was labored under the stress of her trepidation. She was more afraid than she'd ever been, yet she was excited as well. Her left hand was clenched protectively at her heart, and she forcibly relaxed it and let it wander to her left breast, where she was surprised to find the nipple taut and erect. She caressed it lightly through the thin fabric of her tank top, glad that she had chosen not to wear any underwear tonight in anticipation of what she was hoping would be an impassioned, frantic need to remove her outer clothing.
She could feel her tense body begin to loosen up slightly, and she became acutely aware of the wetness between her thighs. On impulse, she reached down inside her pants and dipped her finger into the slick folds of her aroused vulva. She pulled her hand out and swiped the wet finger across the deep cleavage of her breasts, thinking that if the feel of her didn't turn him on, the scent of her might. She took a deep, silent breath and approached the bed.
She had considered taking her clothes off immediately, but rejected the idea with the thought that she might end up being rejected and chased away. She could just barely make him out in the darkness and saw that he was sleeping on his back in the middle of the king-size bed. She slipped off her loafers and slowly pulled the bedding down. Very, very gently she slid into the bed, knowing that if her movements didn't wake him, the pounding of her heart surely would. She settled down beside him, surprised that he continued to sleep, and placed a nervous hand on his bare chest.
For a long moment she simply lay there watching him in the darkness. His breathing remained deep and steady. Resisting the urge to caress him, she kept her left hand completely still as it rested on his chest. She rejoiced in the sensation of finally touching him, skin to bare skin, until the magnitude of what she was doing crept to the forefront of her mind.
Briefly, she considered slipping back out of the bed and sneaking away into the safety of the night. He would never have to know she'd been here, and her life would continue just as before--seeing him without being able to touch him, speaking to him without ever having the courage to tell him how she desired him, always failing in her attempts to gain his attention. Safe, yes, but always wanting. Any reaction he might give her had to be better than that.
She knew it was time to wake him up before he woke up on his own, but she had some preparations left to take care of. She was desperately in need of whatever little bit of control she could create for herself in this situation, which was very little considering his superior size and strength.
She took her hand from his chest to reach into her pants pocket and remove a handful of condoms, which she then tucked beneath the pillow she was lying on. As quietly as she could, she propped herself up with her right forearm and then inched her body toward the headboard so that her head was higher on the bed than his. If she wanted to, she could now kiss the top of his head, and this dominant placement of her body in relation to his added just a modicum of control.
Keeping her torso propped up, she allowed her lower body to relax into him until she had his left arm firmly wedged between their bodies. He was pressed against the length of her, and the warmth of his skin seemed to radiate through her. She could feel the pounding of her heart, the pulsing rush of adrenaline. She reached behind her head and pulled out her hairclip, letting her hair fall across her back, and threw the clip on the floor beside the bed. She heard him inhale a deep breath in his sleep, and she mentally steeled herself for his awakening.
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Swaying... fluttering... gently rolling... these sensations filled his mind as he dreamed of wind and water. He could feel sand under his feet, a breeze across his face. He felt warm and content but for a tiny, nagging impression that something was not quite right. He felt as if he were being moved by some outside force, yet somehow restricted at the same time, and the feeling seemed to grow and spread. Gradually, almost against his will, he began waking up.
His first conscious thought as he drifted out of slumber was the simple realization that he was prone, on his back and on his bed. He was aware that he was in that fuzzy state between sleep and wakefulness, and for a brief moment he was content to lie quietly and wait for those few seconds of sleep paralysis to pass before he could roll over to his side. He was now conscious enough to wonder what time it was, but the thought lasted only an instant as he noticed a pressure, a strange weight against his left side. Suddenly, shockingly, he realized that he was not alone.
With a startled, sharp intake of breath, the man instinctively whipped his head to the left, but he was so astonished by the discovery of this intruder in his bed that at first it was the only movement he was capable of. His eyes flew open but he could see almost nothing in the darkness of the room, and the few shapes and forms that he was able to discern were obscured by a curtain of someone's hair at his face. He lifted his right hand to push the stranger away and immediately felt a hand grasping his and moving it to cup something warm and fleshy, soft yet firm.
"Shhhh," he heard a voice whisper. "It's all right, I won't hurt you."
He was amazed to find that his hand had been placed upon a woman's bare breast; it filled his hand, heavy and supple, and without even thinking he gave it a gentle, appreciative squeeze. He could feel the nipple poking out and he rubbed it between his fingers. He heard the woman gasp softly and then felt a hand move up his arm and across his chest, up to his neck. She took hold of his chin to turn his head so that he faced the ceiling, and she began kissing his neck, his cheek, his ear. He felt as if his entire body was electrified, as if every single nerve ending had been slapped wide awake. He felt the stranger sucking lightly on his earlobe.
"Who are you?" he asked with a shiver as a tongue darted into his ear.
