One brown eye peeked open and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 8:45 gleamed in bright red, and Eli groaned, closing his eye and turning his back on the clock. 8:45 was far too early to get up on a Saturday morning. He nestled his head into the squishy comfort of his pillow, about to slip back into sleep, when Irene snuggled up to him, still sleeping, and threw her arm around his waist, trapping him, a prisoner of love, or cuddling as the case may be. He groaned again quietly. Irene was great when she was awake, but sometimes Eli wished he had a better bedmate. And she talked in her sleep. Completely unintelligible foreign poems. And she stole the covers. She also loved to cuddle, but Eli did not love being trapped under her arm, just inches from sleep. It was a hopeless battle. If he moved her arm, she would wake up. If she woke up, she would never fall back asleep, and she would just talk to him until they were both awake for the day. His best bet was to just hold her, and bury his nose in her softly perfumed, tousled hair, hopefully disguising the particularly bad morning breath she got from never brushing her teeth before bed. Eli lay still, hoping sleep would seize him.
After a few moments, Eli heard the beep on his watch signaling 9 am. There was no chance he was falling back asleep. Now the decision to be made was whether to wake Irene up, or remain stuck. �Well, if I�m up, she should be too,� he thought. But instead of moving her arm to free himself, he wrapped his arm around her waist, lowered his head slightly, and gently kissed her delicate parted lips. Sure enough, with his lips entangled gently in hers, like their legs entangled in the sheets, her foul breath wafted into his mouth and onto his tongue. She slowly woke, kissing him back, and he didn�t care.
�Eli,� she groaned, breaking the kiss, �what time is it?� She struggled to look at the clock
behind him, but he just pulled her closer, chuckling.
�I�ve been up for the last fifteen minutes Irene, ever since you flung your arm around me, capturing me.� He said it sternly, but the smile twitching at the corners of his lips and the twinkle in his eyes gave him away.
She looked up at him sheepishly. �Sorry?� He shook his head with a smile, and bent down to kiss her again. �How �bout I make it up to you,� she murmured into his lips.
She kissed him back, slipping her tongue inside his mouth, running it along the inside of his lower lip. She hesitated for a second, ready to pull away and tell him that his lips were chapped and rough, and he should put on some chapstick, but she tasted her own bad breath when she withdrew her tongue, and decided not to say anything. So she kissed him harder, remembering the first time he kissed her and how she thought he was a bad kisser. He thought he was being romantic by lightly brushing her lips with his own. He didn�t know yet how impatient Irene was. He didn�t know she craved his mouth grinding against hers, almost painfully so. He didn�t know, but he learned. Her lips curled into a smile at the thought, but she forgot everything when his hand cupped her waist and pulled her hips against him. She felt like love�s orphan, finally adopted. Eli was her home. She belonged to him; she belonged with him.
She ran her hands across his chest, toying with his fuzzy chest hair, the pads of her fingers tripping over his sensitive nipples. He inhaled like a long-term hospital patient finally breathing fresh air, and rubbed his hips against her, sucking fiercely on her tongue. He was malleable clay in her experienced hands. She could twist and turn his body any way she wanted, sculpting his flesh to her own desire. Reaching down below the sheets, she stroked his mostly-erect penis, her fingers like a feather, torturing him. She loved the feel of the soft flesh in her hands. It was like the skin on a baby, so innocent and sensitive. �It�s so soft,� she whispered, grinning at him.
He moaned, arching his back, and tried to thrust himself into her hand. �No it�s not,� he whispered back. His eyes rolled back in his head when she grasped him harder. She relished in the fact that she could do this to him. Her strong Eli was reduced to a whimpering moaning child in her hands, and he loved it as much as she did.
After a few moments of kissing and stroking, heavy teenage making out, Irene stopped. Eli�s eyes popped open in surprise, staring at her questioningly. �I�m done. I don�t feel like doing anything else,� she explained nonchalantly as she shrugged her shoulders. A grin quickly spread its way across her face though, as Eli pounced on top of her.
�Done are you? You think you�re done with me? Well maybe I�m not done with you, what do you think of that?� He sat on top of her waist and tickled her mercilessly as she giggled.
�Eli! Eli, stop. Please. I�ll do anything!� She half screamed, half laughed.
�Anything, you say?� He stopped tickling and just grinned goofily at her.
�Anything.� Tears of laughter streamed down her face.
�Good. Then you just lay back little girl, because I�m going to have my way with you.� He wiped the tears from her face, before taking siege of her lips, crushing them.
He kissed his way down her body, pausing at each breast, nibbling, sucking, tugging on her nipples. He watched her body mold to him, like his had done to her. Now he was the clay maker, and she his masterpiece. His hands caressed her hips, which lifted off the bed with each accompanying kiss. He kissed her belly button, and continued his path straight down. He kissed the short fuzz on her pubic bone, and then paused, staring at her. This time her eyes popped open in surprise, pleading with him to keep going. He pulled a hair from his teeth and grinned that toothy grin she loved so much, as she rolled her eyes at him and sunk back into the pillow waiting for him to continue. When he didn�t resume his kissing immediately, she bucked her hips a few times in demand, like a child stomping her foot.
He finally continued, but not where she wanted, kissing around her thighs, teasing her. Her hips flailed even more, and he eventually gave in, licking her with gentle feather strokes, torturing her the same way she had done to him. He could not deny her for long though. It was so much fun to watch her orgasm. She was like an earthquake, rupturing from the inside out, screaming from the pleasure of being shaken to the core. So as her moans increased, so did the pressure of his mouth, burying his face so deeply into her she would have wondered how he could breath if she had her eyes open. He slipped a finger inside her soft wet flesh, stroking that spot that made her vibrate off the bed, and flicked his tongue faster, shaking his entire head back and forth until her moans became screams and her body erupted like a volcano.
He climbed up her body to kiss her quivering lips, and then flopped over next to her on the bed. Irene cuddled next to him, still trying to catch her breath, resting her head on his shoulder with her arm draped across his belly. She sounded sleepy again when she murmured, �Thanks Eli. You�re the best.�
�I know,� he whispered. He sat there silently for a few moments, and then tickled her lightly to get her attention. �So when do I get my turn?�
She yawned at him and responded, �After my nap.� He rolled his eyes, but didn�t seem to care that much. He had the rest of the day to get his turn. Irene was never greedy- or at least not for very long. She yawned again, and then asked, �Eli? Will you sing my song? Please?�
�Why do you like that song so much? It�s so sad,� he murmured into her hair.
�Please? It�s my song. And it�s not sad when you sing it.� She kissed his chest, and tightened her grip around his waist. �Please?�
�Okay, fine,� he easily gave in. In a soft low voice, he began singing.
�Irene goodnight, Irene goodnight
Goodnight Irene, goodnight Irene
I'll see you in my dreams.�
Before he could even get to the first verse, Irene was asleep. She was like a child who falls asleep on the first page of The Night Before Christmas every year. Eli looked down on her happily, listening to her rhythmic breathing, watching her body rise and fall against his own. He realized he was trapped again. Glancing at the clock he saw it was 10:12, and knew he would not fall back asleep again. He pulled Irene closer to him and snuggled next to her, breathing in the mix of perfumed hair and morning breath, content to lie there for a while before the inevitable battle to sneak away without waking her up began again.
neb 11/11/04