Her very skin feels as though it is burning, and the breeze from her window does nothing to elevate it. She tosses and turns, her curls scattered around her face. In a final sigh of frustration, she kicks her damp blanket from her altogether.
Her black silken night shirt sticks uncomfortably to her body, and as she begins to loosen the buttons free of their holding, the tips of her fingers graze gently over her breast. Her breath hitches as images flicker through her mind, of his long fingers in there place, stroking soothingly across the swell, sliding down to cup it gently. She squeezes firmly, feeling her nipples rise against her soft palm.
Her eyes flutter shut as she thinks of long callus fingers coaxing them with delightful pinches until they harden into peaks.
Greedily she sucks at her fingers, so she can imagine his tongue has taken their place, but it is not enough. She allows her hand to trace its way above her skin, leaving her tingling as it gets ever closer.
There is no hesitation as his hand slipped between her legs teasing her with feather light touches, pushing down on the swollen bundle of nerves. Her hips jerk up to meet his playful touches, only serving to encourage him farther down. The moment he meets with hot wetness, all pretence's of playing are lost and he plunges a single finger into her centre, to be greeted by her moans of eager pleasure as he presses deeper.
He drags his wet fingers leisurely among her folds and again his fingers chase circles over her, forcing more issues of approval and encouragement from her plump lips.
He pushes more fingers into her with rough abandonment as he watches her face heat with beautiful torment. She can feel herself tighten against his nimble fingers as she raises her body to met every thrust of his wrists.
In no time at all she was panting heavily. A dull ache had taken up in her hand as well as in the apex of her legs. In almost silent whispers she repeated his name over and over, as she feels the tension in her body rise with each frantic thrust of her body, completely lost in her blissful images she tightens further still around her fingers, until her walls contract and she screams his name from deep within.
She lays still, waiting for her beating heart to take up its usual rhythm. Once the light film of sweat dried from her body, she curls herself around her pillow. Her eyes finally drooping.
Sleep finally captures her while she is surround by the scent of her own arousal, and still she dreams of the man asleep on her sofa.