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The Obsession

The Obsession

Sunday, February 10th, 2013

A Zoe Saldana Fiction Story

Written by Trish (@GimmeUnusual)

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We stood still with our bodies pressed against one another. His hands hung at his sides, while my hands rested gently against his firm chest. His eyes were the color of night. They formed a bottomless pit, an abyss that one could fall deep inside and never find their way out. I couldn’t stare into them without losing myself. Every time our eyes did meet, his saucers enlarged, making my body shudder and forcing me to look away. They swallowed and intimidated me, but yet my addiction kept me coming back to play more of his wicked games.


He had a stern face and an ironclad jaw covered by a 5 o’clock shadow. He stood tall and chiseled, like that of a gladiator. He belonged on the cover of the best Harlequin novel. Mocha-colored skin, curly sandy brown hair, and rugged hands…his body was sheer perfection.


I watched his chest rise and fall. The drumming of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips felt like waves crashing upon the shore. Rapid and strong…enough to toss, tatter, and overturn you. I imagined taking a ride through his veins—his blood the current pushing me through to every molecule of his insides. I wanted to be inside him. I wanted to dissect him and study him from head to toe.  He was magnificent in every way.


I wondered if he thought of me the same way. I’d lie blissfully beneath his scalpel as he dismembered and scrutinized me.  His mouth should only form the words…my mind, my body, my heart, even my soul…it was his for the taking and with it he could do whatever he desired.


I loved him. I loved him more than I loved myself. It was nothing that I wouldn’t do for him.


“Lo que es tan gracioso,” Javier asked.


I realized I had been smiling. I shook my head and said, “Nada.” Nothing was funny; I just couldn’t wipe away the smile he constantly painted across my face.


“I gotta pee,” he said.

“Okay,” I said as I rubbed his cheek.


I watched him walk away. When he disappeared out of view, I missed him incessantly. I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled over to the partially closed bathroom door. I pushed it back slowly and watched him stand over the toilet with his dick in his hand. He had his eyes closed as a perfect stream flowed from his dick, hitting the back of the toilet and echoing throughout the room. I loved to watch him pee. I often wondered what he thought about as he closed his eyes and did it. Did he enjoy the feel of his dick? I know I did. Was it the sensation of release as urine flowed out? Or did he have other thoughts that made him slightly cock his head to the side and close his eyes? If only I could unravel his brain and chase his thoughts. I bet he had a pretty brain.


When the last drop trickled out, he shook his dick, and pulled his boxers up over it while simultaneously flushing the toilet. I got to my feet and walked away.


I climbed into the already disheveled bed and listened as the faucet ran and then suddenly stopped. He walked out and climbed into the mess with me.


“Por qué you didn’t make the bed back up?” he asked.

“Porque lo único que vamos a hacer es embarra,” I replied.


He smiled at me, and then he slid out the bed and began to pull the corners of the sheets to the ends of the mattress. We had practically made love until the sheets fell off. I climbed out to help.


When we were done, he climbed back in and turned to his side to face me. He gave me a quick wink, pulled the cover up to his shoulder, and closed his eyes. I knew he was tired after working all day but I was ready for round 2. I smiled a devious smile, ready to do exactly what I said…mess the sheets back up.  I snuggled up close to his body, pressing my face to his chest. His arms instinctively wrapped around me. I clutched his waist with my thigh, rubbing my leg up and down his thighs. I drew his nipple into my mouth and teased it. Even though I knew he wanted to sleep, his body was saying otherwise. His dick began to stiffen and was poking me near my navel.


I caressed his large, muscular arm as I nibbled on his collar bone. I slid my pussy up and down…covering one side of his dick with my juices. It had grown in length and firmness. I pulled back to look at him. His eyes were still closed and he began to smile. Then he opened one eye to look at me.


“Why you stop?”

“I don’t wanna mess up the sheets.”


He laughed and then pulled me on top of him. I sat up and grinded my pussy on him. He held my waist as I moistened every area of him that was missed. He groaned as I teased him. He kept lifting me up so that he could push it inside me but I’d plop back down leaving it on the outside grazing my flesh. I wanted to be in control. The image of me connecting strings to all his limbs as I manipulated and played with him intrigued me. If only he could be my puppet. I’d play with him day and night.


I turned around on him and put my pussy in his face. Then I leaned over and shoved him deep down my throat. The acidic tang of his dick turned me on. I sucked faster and harder. It was all net…or in this case…throat. I hummed as I savored his lightening pole. Sparks and flashes of light pierced through my closed eyes. Like a unicorn or mermaid, Javier was something of a mythical creature; I was confident that it was his dick spraying rays of light from within.


Finally, I heard that evil growl break through the slushes of my lip-work as his pelvis jerked and he spurted his coconut milk on the roof of my mouth. I climbed down off of him while keeping his dick in my mouth. I wanted to look him in the face. I sucked him until he softened. I loved how his face held so much tension and then slowly relaxed. I licked my lips and savored his luscious flavor. The thought of his little swimmers making my body their home warmed me.


I crawled up beside him and snuggled in his arms. He kissed my forehead and then dozed off. I watched him sleep. The last number I remember is 832…


832 snores before I finally dozed off with him…