He stares at me intently, his hazel eyes demanding, wanting, needing. I don't move as he closes the distance between us with a single stride.
Gently, tentatively, I feel his mouth on mine, ignited with passion. I kiss him back hungrily, the need for him to be inside of me straining to the point of desperation.
His hands are on my breasts, carressing, sending bolts of electricity to my already over-heated brain. My own hands explore his back, getting lower and lower, gliding over every taught muscle. His fingers fumble with the buttons on my shirt, as I slide his jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, forgotten.
Finally, losing patience, he simply tears my shirt off, buttons flying in every direction. I grin and rip off his shirt, pulling his head down to mine in a heated kiss.
I moan softly as our chests collide, skin on skin. He moans too, but it sounds strange for some reason. Kind of like a phone�

I open my eyes and stare at the floor, which is inches from my face. Rolling over, I quickly sit up, searching for him, but he is gone. It was just a dream.
"Damn," I grumble, flopping back onto the floor. I remembered now - I had been watching tv, and had gotten sleepy, but on the way to my bedroom I'd tripped and fell, then just been too tired to move again. I'd fallen asleep on the floor.
The phone rings again. Oh yeah - the reason I was woken up in the first place.
Muttering to myself, I stumble to my feet, and make a mad dash for the insistently ringing device, hoping that the person on the other end stays there.
"Hello?" I croak, my voice foggy from having just woken up. I clear my throat and try again. "Hello?"
"Hi hon, it's me," a cheerful voice pipes. I groan loudly into the receiver.
"Mum! You just woke me up from the best dream of my life!" I complain.
"Really?" she asks, sounding interested. "What was it about?" Oops! Made a wrong turn somewhere. "Never mind," I answer a bit hastily. "So, why are you calling?" I glance at my watch. "Hey, why aren't you home yet?"
Mum sighs heavily into the phone. "I had a meeting that went absolutely forever, and now I'm stuck in traffic," she informs me grimly.
"I was wondering if you could pop down to the shops and pick up dinner? Get some pasta or something," she adds the last bit absently, and I picture her rattling through her briefcase, double-checking she had everything from work that she needs.
"Sure," I start to say, but then I happen to glance out the window. "Wait a minute - it's dark! I don't wanna have to go to the shops in the dark!"
"It's only 5:30," Mum informs me, as though it made a difference.
"But it's winter Mum!" I cry. "Just cos it's 5:30, doesn't mean it isn't dark!"
"You'll be fine hon," she says, and I can hear her shuffling her papers.
"But it's cold and wet outside," I whine. "It's been raining all day, and it's dark as anything. You're the one always telling me not to go out after dark," I add.
"That's nice hon," she replies in that absentminded way. My Mum is a lawyer - the best there is - but sometimes she just doesn't listen.
I sigh heavily. It was no use. I hang up and clomp reluctantly in to my room. Grabbing my jacket off the back of my chair and some cash from my desk, I turn and leave the house, locking the door behind me.
The second I'm outside the cold hits me like a thousand piercing knives. I shiver and pull my jacket around tighter. As I begin my weary journey, I glance up at the sky. Although it's been raining all day, the clouds are still pitch black and threatening. They hang low over my head and do nothing to comfort my mood.
I trudge through the park, thankful that no one else is there. No, that's not true - I spot a figure walking towards me. As it approaches I can tell it's a man, and he has two dogs on leashes. I watch him getting closer, and there's something about his face I really don't like. Probably the leer on his mouth, and the drool dribbling down his chin. His dogs aren't much better. One looks like a wolf more than a dog, and the other is so mangled and scarred by fights it's a wonder it's even still alive.
"Hello," the guy drools. I force a polite smile.
"Hi," I mutter, walking a bit faster. The wolf-dog snaps at me as I pass and I shy away. The guy laughs and walks on. I do the same, moving as fast as my legs will take me, glancing over my shoulder every few seconds to make sure he hasn't changed his mind and decided to follow me.
As my continue on my noble quest I suddenly remember a documentary I watched on tv once. It was about psycho killer, what they tended to look like and how they acted. The show had said that 90% of murderers were single white men aged 30-40. I can't help but notice how many people wandering down the street fit this description.
I finally make it to the shops, but not without a million and two glances over my shoulder, just to make sure that the cute 3 month old baby wasn't going to jump me from behind. It's always the ones you least expect that get you.
I buy a big bag of hot chips and some chicken from the fish and chip shop, then reluctantly turn away from the safety of the street lights to trudge across the park once more.
I see someone who looks so much like a psycho killer I nearly wet my pants. But as I look closer I see it's only a teacher from my school. I suddenly realise just how paranoid I've been.
I laugh and shake my head. I'm glad no one else was here to catch me acting so stupidly. I glance up as I walk. I'm nearly across the park, and only a couple houses from home.
I hear a sound behind me, but I don't turn around. It's probably nothing. I was just being paranoid again.
I never saw the man sneak up behind me, a flick knife in his hand and a murderous glint in his eye.

I thought this one up about twenty minutes ago, on the way down to the shops to buy some stuff for my mum. Needless to say I was shitting myself by the time I got home. Man, I hate my imagination��*wanders off muttering*