Title: My Hunger
Part 1
Author: Sarah
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me. They belong to WWF and Titan Sports. No copyright infringement intended.
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I can smell it, carrying over the win, hanging in the wind. Lingering, wavering, teasing at my nose tempting my body. It calls at me, whispering silent chants though my body. Urging me, pulling me towards it, so powerful, strong, mighty, I can not resist it.
At first I tried, every muscle in my body, struggling, resisting the sent. Slowly as my body grew weaker to the call, it became stronger, more forceful, finally my body weak from pain, I gave in.
I let the smell once more fill me, whispering softly, ever calling me, I followed, no struggle, no fight this time, willingly I let it draw me in.
Why, God why did it have to be this way? Please only, only if it was different, I begged it not to be like this. The sent screaming though me, rippling, washing over like water.
How long, how many times have I entered, creeping, silently slipping though the window. Plunged into the darkness, engulfed by his sent. It seemed so many moons, enough to fill a year, reality only as many to create a month.
Splitting the darkness, once more my sky blue eyes watching his sleeping form. Crisp moonlight, crystal beams, spraying it's silver rays though the open glass. A soft breeze warm to my ridged skin, engulfing the curtains giving them life.
Wrestless once more turning, twisting, rithing against the sheets. Their noises and rustling's with his body, flooding the room, touching my ears.
Catlike each long, think limb takes me closer, ever so close to him. For the first time, I witness each heart beat, flicker of the eye, gentle murmur.
God the smell so powerful, overwhelming my thoughts, I need to taste it, craving for it, help me, please I can't stand it any more.
Petrified, shaking, my hand roams though the darkness, surging with electric fire as it finds its mark.
Skin mysterious to the eye, once looked tough, hard, revealed to be smooth, gentle soft to the fingers. As if by unspoken treaty, as our flesh brushed, his restlessness subsiding, returning to it's once peaceful state.