His Dream

He waited for his fitful sleep to take him. He tossed and turned, waiting to drift into the world that his sleep would take him. To her. His need for her was strong. So strong, that he wanted to be part of that world, and not part of the real world. He turned once more, and found a spot that was right. As the darkness overtook him, he started to drift. All was quiet. The gentle breezes that billowed through the open window, brushed over him gently. He felt the warmth touch his face. Suddenly, the warm touch was not from the breeze, but that of her hand. She had come to him.

That warm gentle hand was the softness of her fingers, delicately touching his cheek. The warmth radiated through him, rousing him slowly. He reached out his hand, and she was there, next to him. He drew back the covers, and his hand searched for her. He felt her warmth, drew her close to embrace her. That made him smile. His fingers sought the softness of her skin, her hair. His arms drew her close to him, so that their bodies were touching. She filled his arms, and slid next to him; conforming her body to him. When his lips found hers, the familiar embrace comforted him. The taste of her lips and sweet smell of her skin intoxicated him. As the kiss deepened, he delighted in the sensation of her softness pressed tightly to him. Her caresses enticed him, brought all his body alive.

He felt as though he was starving for her, and found great comfort in his heart that she was equally starving for him. Their need for each other was apparent in how they touched and held to the other. Limbs entwined, their kiss continued, neither one getting enough of the other. As his tongue gently, teasingly, entered her lips, her gentle whimper set him on fire. A hot flush, like a bolt of lightning radiated through him, fueling his need. He didn't want to wait, he didn't want to savor; he just wanted to take her. He urged open her thighs and touched her. Her wet heat soaked his fingers. His cock was throbbing, aching for her. Her warm hand closed around that throbbing hardness, and squeezed ever so gently.

She positioned herself between his legs. He was braced over her, looking down at her. She touched his arms, shoulders...chest. Her legs caressed his gently; their smooth warmth taunting him farther. He couldn't give in yet; he couldn't' bear for it to be over so soon. He touched her. Her cheek, her soft lips. He leaned over her and kissed her; where his fingers had just touched. His lips left hers and trailed over her chin; on the cleft of her throat. As his warm lips tasted her further, and at last found the warm curve of her breast, he felt her quiver beneath him. He felt his loins throb with his ache for her. When his tongue seared her hard nipple, her hands clenched into fists in the folds of the soft smooth sheets. Her back arched; striving to be closer to him. His tongue continued its journey. Over her ribs, down her belly. The rhythm of her breathing was becoming quicker, deeper. When he brushed his lips over her soft curls, she cried out. He shifted a little, and rested on his elbows. His hands caressing her hips; while his lips placed small kisses on the insides of her thighs. With each kiss, her thighs trembled. He could feel her heat, smell the sweet honey that she so desperately wanted him to taste. He placed the tip of his tongue ever so gently on her throbbing bud. Her legs were full blown shaking now, and he paused to feel her throb under his tongue. He ran his tongue slowly, downward between her hot swollen lips. She was so wet for him! And so very sweet. He gently sucked each silky fold of her, savoring her essence.

When his tongue again found her throbbing clit, he began to make circles around it, slowly but deeply. He knew by the way she twitched under his tongue, with every stroke, that every nerve in her body was on fire. He began to move his tongue faster and faster. Her hips started to move, to counter his strokes. He gripped her tightly and relentlessly stroked her silky flesh with his tongue. Her fists gripped the sheets tighter and he could see and feel her entire body stiffen. Her back arched off the bed, and she cried out to him. At that moment, there was no sound that could be sweeter to him. As he felt her spasms subside, he slowed. She lay there before him, panting, struggling to catch her breath.

She looked into his eyes so deeply; he would have sworn that she could see all the way through to his soul. She smiled at him and backed up a little, against propped pillows, and braced her back against the headboard. She took his hands in hers, and pulled him to her. He was on his knees, in front of her, between her legs. She reached down between them and her soft warm hand wrapped around his oh-so-aching cock. She ran her thumb over the tip of its throbbing head, and a deep groan escaped him. He was close enough to her so that she could hold his captive cock and rub the smooth head between her nether lips, where his tongue had been just moments before. She wasn't extremely gentle with her grip or the way she masturbated herself with his cock. Not that he minded. His cock was so hard and aching for her, he doubted anything could have hurt him.

She wrapped her legs around him and slid herself onto his cock. The heat, wetness, and tightness of her almost took his breath away. She had maneuvered herself so that he was in a comfortable position, but at the same time allowing him to be very deep inside her. He gripped the headboard behind her and started to pump inside her. He knew he would fill her soon, but he didn't care about waiting anymore. He wanted the white heat to take him; engulf him. He pumped her harder, and faster. He felt her get tighter with every stroke. He felt the sensation grip him, and begin to take over. At this point, his passion took over. His hands gripped the headboard in a vise-like grip. He pumped her harder and deeper and the flames spread over his body. He cried out to her this time; just as she too joined him in the fire. The intensity was so deep; he would have sworn he lost consciousness for a few moments.

As their breath slowly returned to normal, he collapsed on top of her, limbs still entwined. His face was against her neck; arms wrapped around her tightly. He didn't want her to go; not now, not ever. As his sleep took him over, he felt her pulse against his lips. He felt so relaxed; it was as though his body was liquid.

The alarm clock's annoying buzz startled him. He woke to find his arms wrapped around his pillow, and light pouring in the windows reminding him that it was morning. He reached over and slammed his hand on the clock. As he turned back on the bed, he buried his face in the softness that was not her....

She was gone, but her scent lingered...