Phantom Touch

I expect this to be stand-alone entry because I'm at a loss as to where to take it from here. But I hope that doesn't stop you from enjoying this submission as-is.

-JillieB

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She woke with a sudden start, her heart racing. Sitting up in bed, she nervously looked around the darkened room, quickly reassuring herself that no one else was nearby.

She was home, alone, and safe.

Still uneasy, she took a second, slower look around, wondering what it was that had disturbed her slumber. The amber light of the nearby streetlamp filtered in through the window shutters, bathing the foot of the bed with its familiar, comforting glow. The clock on her bedside table told her it was a little after 2am. Everything looked as she remembered from a few hours ago when she had wearily climbed into bed, tired after a long day.

She forced herself to take a deep, calming breath, mentally berating herself for being jumpy for no good reason. Sighing, she tugged at her sleep-tangled hair, pulling an errant lock out of the neckline of her silk nightshirt before lying on her back with another sigh.

She had just settled down under the blanket when she felt it.

A light touch feathered gently across her left nipple, causing her to gasp and instinctively cross both arms protectively across her chest. She lay completely still, wide awake now as her pulse raced in sudden fear. Had she just imagined that? Was she so tired that her mind was starting to play tricks on her?

Even as she tensely held her breath, the phantom sensation returned. Her arms were still folded over her nightshirt, and yet it felt like something was touching her bare skin. It traced a gentle circle around her areola before flicking slowly, repeatedly across her nipple. Back and forth, it grazed her sensitive flesh, as if someone was brushing a fingertip against her, teasing her nipple until it began to pucker into a tight bud.

Whimpering in fear, she turned on her left side, squeezing her eyes shut and curling into the fetal position in a futile attempt to escape the unseen hand that was playfully flitting across the tip of her breast.

She lost track of time as the light, teasing touch continued to torment her nipple despite her attempts to ignore it, to dismiss it as nothing more than a figment of her imagination. It flicked patiently, relentlessly, as if determined to go slowly until it could coax a response from her. Despite her fear and uncertainty, she was soon breathless, panting, and an answering warmth began to seep between her thighs.

She gasped when the light touch unexpectedly changed, curling gently around her now distended nipple before pinching the sensitive tip once, twice. Curl, pinch, curl, pinch, the touch repeated its pattern again and again, until her legs moved restlessly and a soft moan escaped her lips.

As if responding to her moan, the sensation changed again. A moist heat engulfed her areola, and the unmistakeable feel of a warm, wet tongue began to toy with her nipple, licking rapidly at the sensitive peak. No longer playful, the damp strokes felt needy, and a soft, warm breath feathered across her skin. Her belly clenched in reaction as the sensation changed again, became an urgent sucking that pulled incessantly at her breast, sending delicious shivers down her spine, intensifying the ache between her legs.

Her arms uncrossed and fell slowly to her sides as she unconsciously arched into the wet warmth that was pulling at her over-sensitized flesh. Her body finally won over her fear as she mindlessly surrendered to the phantom sensation that had gently, patiently seduced a response from her.

As unexpectedly as it began, the pull on her breast vanished, leaving her feeling suddenly cold and bereft. Startled, she opened her eyes, her gaze landing on the clock on the bedside table, surprised to see that it was now well past 3am.

She lay unmoving for a moment, her heart racing, her breath coming in shallow pants. Her left breast felt swollen and sensitive. She was aroused, wet, and needy. Surely it had all been just a dream?

Quickly, she sat up, pushing her hair out of her face as she dipped her chin to look down at her nightshirt. The shape of her distended left nipple was clearly visible beneath the silk fabric, surrounded by a dark outline that looked too much like wet silk clinging to her breast. She raised a shaking hand to touch the nightshirt, her confusion escalating into fear as her fingertips felt the undeniably wet material.

Oh dear God, what had just happened?