sex magic

She had fallen asleep in this dark warm place, curled up waiting, for him.
She feels vibrations as something moves though the house, it is him.
She licks her lips and tastes him on the moving air.
Magic came in the night, she has changed, She is different.
She waits, breathing, her tongue slides out from between full lips,
She can taste him coming toward her.
Smiling she lies still, no movement, only the rise and fall of her breathing betrays her presence.
He moves closer. She tastes him on her tongue.
She waits.
He sits in his chair, his feet slide under the desk.
He knows she is there, he is unconcerned.
Only she knows she is different, only she knows a change has come.
He slides one foot closer to her face,
The tip of her tongue slides out from between her lips gliding across his toes.
He doesn't react, yet. He is writing again, his concentration unbroken.
She reaches toward his ankle, letting new fingers slide over his warm flesh.
It is different to feel him this way, in the way of humans.
A hiss escapes from between her teeth, even that feels different to her.
He goes still as realization comes to him. Disbelief, a thrill rides his skin.
Her arm twines round his leg, her fingers touch the back of his knee.
She is nipping, tasting with lips and tongue as she moves from ankle to knee.
She reaches out her other hand to caresses his other leg, dragging her sharp nails slowly up and down his muscled calf.
She likes this; it is so different then when he holds her, allowing her to coil round his body.
Reaching his inner thigh, exploring with lips, tasting him with her tongue,
Her hands push at his knees forcing his legs open.
She feels something hard against her cheek turning she takes him into her mouth.
With lidless eyes she looks up to see him looking at her, startled, pleasure upon his face.
She swallows him, takes all of him, with tongue and teeth. Using muscles humans don't have.
His eyes close against his will. His breath catches in this throat; he grips the chair, strains against the pull of her mouth.

Is he still asleep? His chest expands with shallow breaths, is he awake? He only knows this dream seems real, so real. If he is not awake, let this dream not end, let her be real.

His eyes fly open, his sheets are wet, that dream again. Rolling out of bed he goes to his desk, there she is, still coiled next to the vent, still sleeping. It was so real; he laughs at himself, turns heading back to the bedroom. She raises her head flicks her tongue as he walks away, a strange sound comes from under the desk, he stops, turns, did she just laugh?