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It's All Coming Back to Me Now [1/1]	By : Daisygirl1315 Category: Reality TV > American Idol/Pop Idol Views: 2573 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the people I am writing about in this fanfiction. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-It's All Coming Back to Me Now
- 1
Based on and lyrics taken from Celine Dion's "It's All Coming Back to Me Now"
Paula's POV

There were nights when the wind was so cold
That my body froze in bed
If I just listened to it
Right outside the window

There were days when the sun was so cruel
That all the tears turned to dust
And I just knew my eyes were
Drying up forever

It’s been two years since Idol had ended.

Two years since Simon and I ended.

I can remember like it was yesterday, however.

The screaming, the yelling.

The vicious fighting.

It was apparent we couldn’t carry on like we had during Idol.

Things were different now that it was over.

The show had made it easy for us.

Easy to sneak around.

Easy to have a non-committal relationship.

No, no commitment at all.

Just sex.

That’s all it was.

Mindless fucking.

If only I had realized then that the meaningless sex would eventually destroy our relationship.

Our friendship.

I was sick of being his mistress.

I wanted more or nothing at all.

There was no way I could go back to just being friends.

Not the way he wanted.

We had crossed a line and we could never go back.

He didn’t understand that.

The last sight I ever saw of him was when he turned his back on me, walking out of my house -and my life- with a defiant slam of my front door.

And at that instant, a part of me died.

But you were history with the slamming of the door
And I made myself so strong again somehow

You know how they always say “You never realize what you had until it’s gone,”?

Our relationship is the epitome of that cliché.

In retrospect, it was a petty fight.

I was out of my mind, if I’m being honest.

Yet, I was too proud to go crawling back to him.

Too stubborn to admit I was wrong.

I gave him up -I lost him- all because of my stupid pride.

In the days afterwards, I was a mess.

A complete wreck.

Everything in my life was dull and gray.

But slowly, surely, I got over him.

I got to where I didn’t miss his touch.

I didn’t miss his presence.

I didn’t miss him.

Or at least that’s what I told my family and friends.

What I told myself during the day.

When I had to carry on without him.

But late at night, alone in my bed, I was still the empty, lifeless Paula I had become the minute he left.

However, it’s now two years later, and I’m more myself now than I have been in a while.

Than I have been since we first met.

I’m in an airport.

I’m reading a newspaper.

I’m functioning.

Without him.

The word “British” jumps out at me from a headline, instantly reminding me of him.

I glance up from the newspaper.

Momentarily.

I close my eyes and shake my head softly.

Unsuccessfully attempting to clear him from my thoughts.

When I open my eyes, I recognize a familiar profile.

My breath catches in my chest and my stomach is immediately consumed with jittery nerves.

It couldn’t be…could it?

I blink.

Once.

Twice.

The blurred image comes into view as I squint, focusing on the man a few yards away from me.

It’s him.

It’s Simon.

After all this time.

He’s alone.

Intensely studying something in his hands.

I’m desperate.

I don’t know what to do.

I pause momentarily, laughing silently at myself.

What can I do? I ask myself.

Walk up and ask him how he’s been?

Act like nothing has happened?

Nothing has changed?

No.

It’s not that simple.

We’re not the same people we used to be.

We’re not even friends anymore.

We’re just two people in an airport.

Two people who used to know each other.

Two people who used to be friends.

Two people who used to be so much more.

Yet, a part of me feels the need to say something.

Anything.

Before I realize what I’m doing, my legs are moving.

I’m walking in his direction.

I have no idea what I’m going to say when I reach him.

Yet, I’m not slowing down, although my knees feel like they could give out at any second.

Before I know it, I’m close to him.

A mere few feet away.

I could reach out and touch him if I wanted.

Then, as if he senses my presence, he turns around.

Our eyes meet and his deadpan expression changes from recognition, to surprise, then finally, it softens.

Immediately my eyes begin to well up with tears.

I’m still at a loss for words.

I open my mouth momentarily, then I shut it again.

I honestly have no idea what to say.

My mind is racing but miserably blank all at the same time.

I bite my lip and shift my gaze downward.

This is awkward.

When I look up again, he’s standing in front of me.

So incredibly close to me.

I swallow, opening my mouth again in attempt to form a sentence.

A word.

A syllable, even.

Silently, he presses an index finger to my lips.

I smile against his finger and he slowly removes it, allowing the tip of his finger to linger against my bottom lip.

He traces it softly before his hand drops to its previous residence at his side.

I blink back the tears, allowing my eyes to stay closed for an extra second as his intoxicating, familiar scent fills my senses.

“I’ve missed you,” I say suddenly.

I’m shocked to hear the words coming out of my mouth.

I only meant to think them.

Not to say them out loud.

Suddenly panic, fear, and insecurity consume me as I have no idea why I made such a confession so suddenly.

I open my eyes again, just in time to find his face inches from mine.

He’s staring deep in my eyes, almost silently willing me to say it’s okay.

Willing me to ask for a kiss.

To ask him to stay.

Now…and forever.

I nod, almost unintentionally, leaning into him until our lips meet in a blissful union.

I melt against him.

It’s as if nothing has changed.

But if I touch you like this
And if you kiss me like that
It was so long ago
But it's all coming back to me
If you touch me like this
And if I kiss you like that
It was gone with the wind
But it's all coming back to me

He breaks the kiss.

I drop everything I’m holding.

The newspaper.

My bags.

The resentment and hurt that I’ve held in for so long.

I’m putty in his hands.

The next thing I know, we’re in a cab.

I have no recollection of how we got there.

I have no idea where we’re going.

Nor do I care.

All I’m really concerned with right now is Simon.<.

Where his lips are.

Where his hands are.

How right it feels.

Suddenly we’re at his house.

His large, grand scale LA home that he hasn’t been back to since Idol ended.

Since we ended.

I’m surprised he still owns it.

However, I’m unconcerned with the mundane facts as we enter the large living room, lips and tongues meeting again.

Passionate and impatient.

He bends his knees, dropping softly to the floor and pulling me with him.

Never breaking the searing kiss.

Gently he leans forward, pushing me backwards onto a large, plush rug in front of the fireplace.

I lie on my back, watching him as he dims the lights and presses a button, starting the gas-lit fire.

The dim, yellow light flickering over our bodies as we undress each other.

Slowly.

He lies beside me, naked.

Erection standing proud.

His fingers work the buttons on my blouse, each popping open easily.

It’s almost as if they want this as much as we do.

I shiver as my shirt falls open, exposing my thin black bra.

Slowly I lift myself up, removing the clothing.

As I undress myself, he’s tracing the delicate skin of my collarbone.

Softly, tenderly.

Caringly.

The corners of his mouth turn upwards, a small smile playing on his lips.

Slowly he bends forward, taking my breast in his mouth, his deft tongue expertly massaging the rock hard nipple.

I sigh.

Oh how I’ve missed his touch.

Releasing my nipple from his hot, warm mouth he moves upwards, allowing our lips meet again as I lift my hips, attempting to free myself from the denim prison of my jeans.

Gently, he takes control, his masculine fingers skimming the waistband as he curls his fingers, tugging them slowly off my hips.

He’s taking a generous amount of time, which is different.

For both of us.

Before this we always had to rush.

Get the deed done as quickly as possible.

But now, there is no reason to hurry.

No appointment to be at, no questions to dodge.

No worries that someone would find out.

Instead, we’re only concerned with making up for the past two years.

Making up for the time we lost.

Suddenly I see a flash of light and a few seconds later I hear thunder boom in the distance.

Without warning, the rain begins to pour.

The water pounding on the rooftop, creating a sensual background noise, mingling with the cracking and popping of the fire.

Mingling with our sighs and moans of pleasure.

I spread my legs wide after he frees me from the confines of my panties.

I’m now completely ready for him.

He slides his right hand between my legs, fingers inching farther and farther upwards until they reach my dripping folds.

I whimper at the initial contact, moaning as he pinches and massages my clit in soft, rhythmic circles.

Involuntarily, my hips buck as he runs his fingers up and down the lengths of my folds.

Over and over again, in a regimen that nearly drives me to the brink of insanity.

Just before I scream from the pure torture of needing him inside me, I feel him position himself between my spread legs, his hard cock pressing against my labia.

Unlike previous instances, Simon doesn’t take the time to tease me.

We’re too impatient for foreplay.

It’s getting harder and harder for me to breathe as I feel the tip at my opening.

I close my eyes and tilt my head slightly back, waiting for the wonderful pressure of his cock buried deep inside my depths.

Instead he stays where he is.

Motionless.

I open my eyes slightly, peeking at him through the slits of my eyelids.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask softly.

Impatiently.

“You to look at me,” he responds milliseconds before he slams into me without restraints.

A guttural scream escapes my lips as he enters me fully before pulling out and slamming into me again.

Over and over, my inner walls expanding as much as possible with each thrust.

With each plunge I scream again, louder and louder, keeping the eye contact as his large cock slams into me over and over again.

Mercilessly.

It is easiest the best sex we have ever had.

So much angst, and passion, longing, needing…

So much desire consuming every synchronized motion of our hips.

As I feel my climax building I close my eyes.

Preparing myself.

In response, Simon slows his thrust down.

Instead of fast and intense they’re now slow and shallow.

I open my eyes long enough to look at him questioningly.

“It’s been two years, Paula. Two fucking long years. I’m gonna make this last."

I can’t help but smile at I comply with him, slowing the motions of my hips to meet his lazy thrusts.

If you forgive me all this
If I forgive you all that
We forgive and forget
And it's all coming back to me
When you see me like this
And when I see you like that
We see just what we want to see
All coming back to me
The flesh and the fantasies
All coming back to me
I can barely recall but it's all coming back to me now

For a few minutes we continue at our slow pace.

Then, without warning he begins to pick up momentum.

Deeper and harder he slams, his face turning bright red from the effort exerted.

I feel as if my inner walls are going to rip apart as he buries his cock deeper and deeper into my molten depths.

I begin to feel light headed and I dig my nails into the plushness of the rug, anticipating what is soon to come.

Two more thrusts and I explode, flashes of white light exploding behind my closed eyelids.

My nails come up to his shoulders and dig in his flesh as I ride the white hot waves of pleasure.

But Simon isn’t done yet.

He continues to slam into me, over and over, and before I even have time to recover from my first climax, I feel another one building.

Almost driving me to the brink of insanity.

And then it happens.

With a loud cry of my name I feel him explode within me, his hot semen spilling out and filling my insides.

I too, explode, my walls clenching him with all I have as I scream a random assortment of incoherent vowels.

Over and over he repeats my name again, like his own personal mantra as he rides out the lasting effects of his orgasm.

Panting, he allows his elbows to buckle, collapsing down on top of me, his now flaccid cock still buried inside of me.

Our hot, slippery bodies lie against each other as we fight to catch our breath, clutching each other until we recover fully from what may have been the most orgasmic experience the two of us have ever shared.

Little do we know it was to be the first of many...

And when you kiss me like this
(It's all coming back to me now)
And when I touch you like that
(It's all coming back to me now)
If you do it like this
(It's all coming back to me now)
And if we...

The End
- 1
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It's All Coming Back to Me Now [1/1]