Fidelity
Prologue
Arms wrap themselves around me in a warm cocoon, hands gliding across my waist in a silken caress. The rougher pads of thumbs trace little circles on my bare skin. I could feel the strong sinews of a sturdy chest behind me and the rapid thrum of the heartbeat within. I could feel heavy breathing in my ear and the combined feverishness of sweat-slicked skin on skin. I moan in appreciation, reveling in the delicious friction of hips pressing and grinding into mine, feeling the pulsing hardness of an arousal.
I hum in content, stretching drowsy muscles: extending my arms above my head, legs taut with toes pointing upwards, arching my back like a feline and pressing myself further into the embrace. I let out another moan as my joints and ligaments pop and creak. My eyes then flutter open, blinking off the soporific gravity of sleep.
"Good morn–" I start.
An empty darkness greeted me.
It was an endless expanse of inky black – the only thing I could distinguish was a faint silver outline of my body. I gasp in shock, immediately reaching for the hands resting on my stomach for reassurance, a frantic grip for reality.
I shriek in terror when I realized there was more than one pair of hands on my body. I recoil instantly, tearing myself away from the prying hands. I stand up – from and onto what I do not know – but I back away, my arms a pathetic protection for my nakedness. I could see the glow of my footprints on the ethereal surface beneath my feet.
Suddenly rooted in place, I start to hyperventilate as I notice the phosphorescence of other footprints leisurely approaching me. They were foxy predators, toying with vulnerable prey they know cannot flee. I tremble when I feel the back of a hand, now like a serpent, slithering down the side of my face.
I couldn't help but whimper when the others proceed to molest me, exploring, frisking, groping. One, two and three pairs I counted. Lecherous hands were then replaced with hungry mouths; plump lips with lascivious tongues; salacious licks with…
I see their eyes, their heated gazes on my exposed flesh, the burning desire behind their pupils and the raging inferno of Asmodeus within. One pair was a stormy blue, another a verdant green. The final pair was a rich, dark chestnut, almost black. I ignite under their lust-fueled stares, consumed by a fiery mess of tangled limbs, voluptuous flesh and flushed skin.
"Who are you?" I scream, heat welling up beneath my skin, threatening to burst. I get no answer before Morpheus releases his hold on me.
I wake up and look at the person beside me. He is already awake.
"Good morning, babe," he smiles, his eyes twinkling under the morning light.
But he is not you.