Wake-up call

It was unusually balmy for a night in late March. My dorm room was hot and stuffy. I had the window open and the fan turned on high. Clark and I climbed into my bed pulling just the sheet over our sweaty bodies. The faint whirring of the fan lulled us both to sleep.

Something stirred me slightly. It pulled me out of deep sleep to the edge of consciousness. I wasn't quite awake but I could feel humidity all around me. The whirring became louder. I was in a dimly lit alley. A dark, muscular figure pressed me against the cool cement wall. Heat radiated between our bodies. Beads of sweat formed on my lower back and slowly slid down disappearing into my jeans. He pressed himself into me, his shirt hot and wet against mine. He breathed heavily into my ear, his hot breath making me shiver with excitement. With one hand propping him against the wall, his free hand slid over my moist skin, tracing a line from my neck, over my shoulder and down my arm. He slowly unbuttoned my jeans, sliding his hand inside my damp panties. I inhaled slowly. Fumes from the nearby exhaust fan traveled up my nose. They smelled of the grill smoke being expelled from the kitchen of a restaurant. His hand pushed between my legs, his fingers gliding from front to back. As I started breathing faster, the whirring from the fan grew louder and it was all I could hear as he pushed his fingers inside me.

I opened my eyes, the low hum of the fan still present. Clark was facing me, his hand inside my soaking wet panties. He kissed me as waves of pleasure washed over me again and again and again...