Komm.

Before she knew it, her eyes were shut. A journey began. An adventure, somehow familiar yet totally new. A smile glistered upon her face only slightly and before she knew it, she was a living mess lying there, buried in the expensive blue silk sheets that in a way, at the tips of her fingers reminded her of a deep, pure ocean. She would probably be able to get the salty sea taste in her mouth too, had it not been for a particular touch that shot trough her like electricity. It was a quick reminder that she needed to stay conscious. So she opened her eyes and confronted what her senses intinctly longed for. And she took it in oh-so willingly; first, there was the feeling under her fingertips, scratching a path lightly across the sweaty chest, then came the smell – manly and overwhelming, mixed with his saliva, which she found so tremendously difficoult to define; not in the guessing of whose the molecules that she was recieving were, but rather in how the tongue could work such miracles when in collision with hers. Her body was once again in a complete state of awe and total submission. Even if she would want to back off, as foolish as even the thought given seemed to be, there was nothing that could make her body move. Except for the almost distant voice, that sounded like it was firmly standing its ground, commanding in a velvet and light voice; »Come.« It was all the woman needed to become a snake to the sound of a flute, played by none other then her favourite illusion. An illusion so real, she could not only see it, but also taste, feel, smell... God, even hear it! She heard the buzz in her head as the reflection of the endlessly lost heart, beating slowly beneath her palm, which was stil pacing over the foregin, but at the same time so perfectly familiar breast. A whishper was heard. »Let us escape, little one. Just let yourself go and I promise I will make you fly.« The figure above her became blured and the touches started vanishing gradually – step by step, they were gone. She closed her eyes again, holding onto the moment before its dissapperance, hearing a faded voice. »Take my hand . We're alone now. Everything will feel different when we'll be together.« As soon as it started it also came to an end. Back to reality. Her head was heavy, her eyes puffy, her nose burning, her underpants moist. She sat up, slowly and unsurly. She needed more. It was not her will but a dreadfull, painful need. She reached for the nightstand and weakly formed another thin line from the white powder. Clentching her teeth, she did it again. A trip and him. Just the way she wanted, loved, needed it. Some knocked on the door while she was being knocked out by the drug. This time, her dream came true. Literally. She made love with the illusion. Again. The only way she could truly have him. Perfect.