1. The Changeling Baby


    Date: 1/1/2016, Categories: Supernatural, Author: TamLin, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

    unseen. His parents were already asleep when he got home, which surprised him, and there was no note for him, which surprised him even more. Now he lay awake and looked at the ceiling. He guessed Nissa must be there, right over his head in the little apartment she lived in with five other people. Was she thinking about him too? He wished he hadn’t walked way. Had he hurt her feelings? He rolled over in the bed and pictured the scene again. They were in the garden, they were all alone, her hand was reaching out for his, he leaned in toward her lips and— But no. He stopped himself there. Even in his fantasies he never dared dream of being kissed. It seemed like too much to hope for. Instead he pictured Nissa pushing him up against the brick wall and tugging his belt off, sliding his pants down his legs. He always felt guilty thinking about her this way, but it almost seemed like he had no choice. For some bizarre reason, sex seemed less taboo than just a kiss, maybe because it was such a foreign concept to him that it barely seemed like a real thing. He tried to imagine what Nissa’s hands would feel like, or her lips. He imagined running his fingers through her hair and the sting of the evening air on his exposed body as she pulled his pants down lower and reached into the flap of his underwear. Would her hands be cold, he wondered? Would his body warm them up? He reached for his cock and held it the way he guessed she would. He was even careful to use his left hand; she was ...
    left handed, and so was he, the only left-handed person in his family. It pleased him to know they had this little thing in common. What would she do? What would she say? He knew what the women in those movies on the Internet did and said, but he couldn't imagine Nissa being that way. Unless of course she watched those same movies? The thought sent a surge through his body and he closed his eyes, trying to imagine all the sensory details that he could, from the feeling of the rough brick wall to the brush of her blouse against his naked thighs, the slippery feeling of her lip gloss as she put her mouth against him (he was particularly proud of thinking about the lip gloss), and the delicious tension as she ran the tip of her tongue around and around the head of his— He could barely even think the word "cock.” He thought about how her mouth would feel: warm and wet, obviously, and soft, but what about her tongue? How would it move? How would he feel when it did? How hard would she actually suck? And what would she look like? Would her eyes be open or closed? He pictured himself brushing the hair back off of her forehead; this seemed like an important gesture, because it would show that he was not just thinking about himself in that moment. He imagined himself moving, pushing with his hips. He thought about her mouth, and his (cock) and the movement of his hips and the thrill of knowing that they were together, finally together in the ultimate way that could brook no rejection of ...
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