It's a dream I've had for a few nights in a row now. I'm somewhere dark and cold and then I'm in Tate's arms. He's carrying me. I don't even open my eyes, but I know it's him because he's warm and strong and he tells me that everything is going to be okay. And I'd believe him, except that he is crying.
My alarm blasts me into the reality of my room. Instead of my usual alternative rock station, it's blaring some kind of Spanish talk radio show. What the fuck? Oh... Tate.
Just as I think his name he's there at the foot of my bed, laughing. I smack down the snooze button.
"Very funny," I grumble and burrow back down in my quilt.
The mattress bounces as he hops onto the bed, straddling me over my bundle of blankets. He reminds me of Tigger pouncing on Winnie The Pooh. Jesus, he has a lot of energy in the morning. But I remember that "morning" doesn't mean anything to him. And then that reminds me I should be freaked out by the fact that he's in my room at 6:00 a.m. Of course I know he's dead and this is his permanent home and I am actually an occupant in his old room. I also know that he is happily clueless to all of it, so I just leave it alone.
He starts to kiss the part of my head that's sticking out of the blankets. I wriggle underneath, trying to shove him away. "Get off! I'm going back to sleep." He is undeterred. He pulls the blankets away from my face and shoulders. He pecks at my forehead and cheeks.
He continues to pull the covers down and, to be honest, I don't put up much of a fight. Until he starts to tickle me. Then I get mad. I am not a morning person. My parents know to give me a wide berth until at least 10 a.m. and then I'm only good if I've had my caffeine. But here he is digging his fingers into my waist and I'm laughing, which only makes me madder, so I go to push him off of me, but my hand accidently smacks him hard against his lip. "Ow!" he calls out, only half-joking, and rolls off of me.
I lean up on my elbow. "I am so sorry!" I say and I'm shocked to see there is actually a little bit of blood on his lip. His tongue ventures out to taste it. I'm suddenly gripped with a desire to taste it myself. It looks so bright and sweet... Before I realize it I lean down and lick it. He looks just as surprised as I do. I have the strange urge to bite him so he'll bleed some more. He sees it in my eyes and he lifts his head up to kiss me, hard.
Suddenly our mouths are open, our tongues reach and wrestle. I feel a jolt between my legs. Our mouths part for just a moment as he lifts my tank top over my head. I plunge my mouth into his again as my nipples graze his sweater. He moans into my mouth. I move my knee between his legs and press it against the swell in his jeans. Our tongues work furiously to taste each other, like we can't get enough. His hands feel cool against the skin of my back. They venture down...
The blast of a Spanish radio commercial forces us up for air. I reach desperately for the clock, being careful to slam down the "off" button this time. I groan and Tate laughs before pushing my shoulders back against the bed and he's lying over me. "Do you want to?" he whispers. I instinctively look at my door. It's closed, of course, but I think about my dad. Tate reads my mind. "Don't worry. He went for his morning run."
"I'm supposed to be getting ready for school," I say, but he's already kissing his way down my neck. He mumbles something into my skin above my breast. "What?"
He lifts his head briefly to say,
"Just skip it." before plunging his mouth around my nipple. Christ, that feels good. His lips are so soft. His tongue flicks my nipple playfully. Then he starts to suck in earnest as his hand fondles the other one. I feel like I could cum just from the rhythm of his mouth tugging at my breast. I wonder then what his mouth would feel like on my... His lips venture over to suckle the other side. I close my eyes and enjoy the sensations. He's so hard against my leg. His ruts against me in his jeans. I want to be naked with him, I want... "Are you going to skip?" he asks suddenly, leaving my nipple wet and swollen, aching for more.
"What? Oh, yeah. fuck it," I say. He grins from ear to ear. I can't help but smile at that boyish, dimpled grin. God, he's cute. But now he needs to get back to – yes, there it is. He envelops my nipple with his warm mouth. I start to think again about his tongue down between my thighs and I shift restlessly on the bed. He hasn't tried it yet. I don't know if he wants to. I don't know if I'll like it. No, I'll like it. But if he tries it, I'll probably chicken out. The idea of his mouth down there is so – shit I can't think about it because it's too much.
He sits up to pull off his sweater and undershirt. Why the hell would I even think of sitting through those brutal classes and seeing all those bourgeois bitches when I could spend the day doing this?
I sit up and smooth my hands against his chest. His breath quickens as I graze his nipples with my palms. I slowly move them up to his shoulders. He takes my wrists and pushes me back against the bed. He lets go and kisses me, the kind of slow, deep kiss I can feel down to the tips of my toes. "I want to make you feel good, Violet," he says. I gulp and pray that my dad takes one of his super punishing morning runs. As Tate kisses his way between my breasts and down my stomach, I even pray that he'll have a minor cardiac episode just so we'll have enough time...
Tate pulls my shorts and panties down my legs, dropping them to the floor. He slides down on his stomach and slowly pulls my thighs apart. Oh, God. Oh, God, okay, here we go, oh shit, he's going to do it…
His tongue presses against my folds and my whole body shudders. He glances up at me for a second and then reaches his tongue out to lick me again. A groan escapes me and he starts to taste me in earnest. I prop myself up on my elbows to watch his blonde head moving between my thighs. I feel the delicious caress of his tongue, how it swirls and pulses against me, and I am quite sure I'm going to die. My juices are flowing, he laps them up, moaning into my pussy like it tastes so good. He makes me believe it, so I relax fully into the massage of his tongue. I buck my hips to meet his naughty kisses and squeal when he gently sucks at my clit. I whisper his name, a chant, because I'm getting so close, Tate, Tate, Tate... he plunges his tongue in and out in and out. I am soaking wet and swollen, the pressure rising, Tate, Tate, Tate! Oh god, here it goes, here it goes – here it – oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, god, fuck, holy fuck, fuck, fuck fuck, holy shit mother….
When the wave subsides I realize I'd been screaming. My hands are grasping fists of his hair. I let go gently and fall back to my pillow, breathless, ripples of pleasure still seizing me.
Tate sits up against his heels and he looks so happy, like making me cum is his sole purpose in life. Or rather, his afterlife. But I don't want to think about Tate being dead because he is way too beautiful and I can see he's way too fucking hard right now for me to think he's anything other than a normal, horny teenager. I sit up and undo the button on his jeans. He hops off the bed and pulls them off with his boxer shorts. I'd never actually seen a real live dick before Tate's, but I am pretty sure that he is in the porn-star category as far as size goes.
He grabs my hips and swings them around until they're lined up with the edge of the bed. He slowly enters me from a standing position. I wrap my legs around him. He pushes into me carefully, and I gasp as he fills me. He asks if it feels okay, but speech has left me, so I nod emphatically and grab hold of his shoulders. He leans forward, putting his hands on either side of my head, folding me almost in half. And oh, he can reach so deep inside that way. It's so intense I can't breathe. He meets my gaze and pushes in. I give a little cry. He starts to pump faster, each time his hips press against my clit and in a moment I'm squealing, gripping his arms as he grunts, his hips moving in a rhythm that is driving us both insane.
"Oh, it's so good, Vi. It's so good." He presses his forehead against mine. "Violet, I want you to cum, " he rasps, pulsing to touch that spot that only he can reach. "Cum for me, Violet…"
My body seizes with the wave of pleasure, my back arching, my mouth open but I have no voice to cry out because my body is singing. He follows behind me, crying out with his own release.
We collapse on the bed together and stare starry eyed at the ceiling as our bodies cool.
He turns on his side to face me, so I do the same. "I'm so glad we have the whole day together," I say.
He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. His eyes look sad.
"Oh, and Tate?"
"Yeah?"
"Quit fucking with my alarm clock."
He smiles, bringing a little of the light back.
I only hope I can make it stay.