Author: Patches
Disclaimer: VERY NC17 – explicit and quite naughty
, language etc. (you get the idea)Distribution: Just for the Kitten Board – but send me a PM via the inbox if you think you know someone who might buy it – lol. The first editor I sent it to didn’t want it. The rejection letter came this morning.
Feedback Most definitely!!! Any suggestions, thoughts or comments are always welcomed.
This short story is complete and significant for two reasons; it’s the first story I typed the words, “The End” to, and second, it’s the first time I submitted my writing for publication.
Enjoy. Oh, and the NC 17 rating…I really mean it
Thanks for reading
Cheers!!
Patches
In Dreams What May Come
My hiking boots crunched into the loose gravel on the isolated country road, shattering the pre-dawn stillness. Still below the horizon the sun’s rays tinted the cool, hazy morning scarlet as I unhooked the latches and peeled open the top of my red Mark IV convertible. Reaching around the front of the windshield, I caught my shapely rubenesque body in reflection – baseball hat, leather jacket, t-shirt, cut-off shorts, the perfect package for a lesbian on the prowl. That was a laugh and a half, three weeks in London living in four-star luxury and not a single conquest, not even a prospect. Something had called me to abandon London. In a whisper of breeze, a voice had echoed from the distant forest, drawing me to the mist. Map in hand, I’d followed.
The GLBT travel guide read: Arndell - Rustic Bed and Breakfast: lovely wooded setting, secluded. At ₤15 a night, and lesbo owned/operated, how could I go wrong?
"Maybe she's lonely, in need of …company. Well, maybe I'm lonely, in need of company," I said to the lonely pre-dawn mist. Uh, maybe? My frustrated body prodded.
I paused to drink in my surroundings, so unlike the empty city. The air was charged and layered with textured fresh scents; wild flowers, dew and earthy moss. Aromatic burning cedar, green rolling hills, and even early spring’s damp chill was like balm for my besieged, city-worn senses. A cool breeze caressed my hardened nipples, the promise of a warm day slow in its fulfilment.
Dreamlike though the landscape was, it had done nothing to suppress the gnawing ache between my legs. With a sigh, I turned back to the Triumph, and then it hit. A surreal veil, the essence and feeling of knowing the unknown, where dream and reality collided. A voice whispered on the wind, calling me into the retreating crimson mist.
Déjà Vu. Stronger than any I’d felt. My senses tingled and I shivered against the forced memory of the waking dream. I knew this place. Blades of tall grass dripping dew, my car and clothes, a minute snippet of dream. Since my arrival on England’s fair shore, a haunting vision had replayed every night in my sleep, leaving me wet and aching. Each morning I awoke alone with the same metallic taste in my mouth, and emptiness in my cunt. I closed my eyes and slipped into dreamscape where a sweet ruby mouth bit hard into my inflamed ensanguines clit.
“Goddess, if only!” I groaned, “There’s just no way.”
Sloughing off the ridiculous notion of precognition did nothing to alleviate my body’s frantic need. Just thinking about the dreams kept my clit permanently stimulated. Try as I might to believe otherwise, the vision felt more real than any sexual encounter. I love fucking women until they soak the sheets and beg for more, but sometimes, as my raging dream driven clitoral hard-on reminded me, nothing beat the sweetness of total surrender.
Leaning nonchalantly against the car with ankles crossed, I re-checked the map, hoping the pressure of my crossed thighs would alleviate other…heaviness.
It didn’t.
I needed to stop doing this to myself, especially after five frustrating weeks of intense wet dreams; and I mean, intense
Taking a deep breath, I secured the roof, snapping down the catches with more ‘oomph’ than necessary. I felt a sharp twinge against the pulse point on my left wrist and looked down. Fascinated, I watched blood well to the surface and ooze from a small, deep slit in my skin. Instinctually, I brought the wound to my mouth. The reaction was instant – hot, bittersweet liquid burned my tongue; metallic sensation and scent recalled the waking dream, driving agonizing need into my hyper-stimulated cunt.
Looking about, the crimson sky exploded in a ball of fire cutting a swath against reality, creating a vibrant pulse I’d never experienced. Sound amplified in the still dawn air, red flower buds turned rubicund. I squeezed my palms against my temples to contain the blood pounding in my head, while vestiges of last night’s ale churned in my stomach. Fucking hell, horny and hung over, but the taste of my own blood was a libant stronger than any English ale. The erotic sensations I awoke to these past five weeks were fresh and alive. My lips swelled, so hot and aroused, I hurt.
With an audible groan, I folded the map and slid into the driver’s seat, a solitary thought on my mind.
It was early, the road deserted. My body begged for release. Sliding forward in the leather seat I unbuttoned my shorts and slid my hand between the engorged folds of skin. Barely touching my throbbing silken nub, I imagined the tip of a hot tongue dragged slowly across. So fucking close…
Torn away at the edge of orgasmic explosion, I heard thundering hooves gallop toward the crumbling fieldstone wall bordering the road. “OH Shit! ” I bolted upright and pulled my t-shirt over my open shorts. Fuck. I was so close to coming. My chest heaved, body about to explode in frustration. This was not part of the fantasy, and it certainly wasn’t part of the fucking dream!
The rider was a woman, thick cinnabar cloak and long raven hair flying wildly in the breeze. Looking toward her, our gaze met for an instant. Intense fawn-coloured eyes tore into my soul.
“Good morning,” she called to me, a knowing smile curled around the corners of her ruby lips, and then she was gone.
“Morning,” I replied inanely to the form retreating into the crimson mist. “Oh, god,” I groaned, “Can it be?”
I had to find 'Arndell'. Given my current state, laundry, a shower and somewhere private to masturbate, not necessarily in that order, were priority.
Near the edge of a dark oak forest, a small tent sign read, ‘Arndell B&B: Ten Miles.’ I checked my watch. Worst case scenario? They’d tell me check-in wasn’t until eight, and to come back in an hour’s time. For the first time, I actually obeyed the speed limit.
Cruising along, I thought about an English beauty with raven hair and intense fawn-coloured eyes, who played with me in my dreams. “Please,” I cried to the wind.
Unusual red quartz boulders painted with Old English script, ‘Arndell’ marked the road. Well, “road” was generous; cart path was accurate. Turning onto the old worn path, heavy foliage from trees ages old shaded the road while hazy sunlight strobed between branches. It was like stepping back in time, my car incongruous with the surroundings. God, I thought, this place is journey’s end.
Umm, I breathed. Well, at least I could hope, and I had two weeks to burn before returning home. A touch of sadness crept in. Home…to noise, pollution, cars, and everything else that went with the motions of my barren life. Home, to everything that wasn’t this.
In my daydream of life eternal or at least eternal bliss in the arms of an English beauty, I failed to notice the fast approaching storm. Thick heavy drops of rain replaced sunlight. Thunder rumbled and the sky lit with azure streaks. Skidding to a stop, I scampered to put the top up before my car turned into a lake.
Cold rain fell, heavy and wet, soaking through my open coat, “Fucking Christ!” I shivered against the mounting cold, goose bumps rising over my rubenesque body. What’s the adage? ‘Don’t like the weather, wait 5 minutes.’ I was treated to a cold puddle as I settled into the driver’s seat.
The sign beside the large polished iron gate read, ‘No Vehicles On Grounds,’ below that, ‘Dana Carwyn: Park and check in at Stable House.’ I left the car in a sheltered stable by an oak grove and headed down the path as the sun peeked out from behind tenebrous clouds. Five minutes into my long walk around the main house, an awe-inspiring 15th century manor home, the sunshine disappeared. It started raining again.
Did I mention, rain, as in deluge, the derivative of antediluvian, build an ark and amass the animals, torrential rain. Caught mid-point between the car and the cottage where I was booked to stay, there was no point turning back.
Thoroughly soaked, I slogged through a river of mud toward Stable House. Miserable was a good word. No, make that fucking miserable: Cold, wet, fucking miserable and horny like there was no tomorrow. It’s rare my body ever stays permanently aroused, but today was different. Everything about today was different.
With an exasperated sigh, I approached the cottage’s ornate oak door. Shivering, I lifted the gothic doorknocker and prayed they didn’t mind an impolite Canadian showing up soaking wet, an hour early for check-in. The ironwork fell with a resounding, ‘Thud.’
Contemplating the end of my romanticized view of quaint and English countryside, the door opened and a rather stern looking tall, raven haired woman with porcelain skin and alluring light-brown eyes greeted me.
A bemused smile played at the corner of her full ruby lips. She stared down at me from the single step leading into the cottage. The entrancing fawn eyes, so very much like my own, captivated me.
“Good morning.”
Her accent made me tingle, hot, instant recognition on a level deeper than lust. A blush stole up my cheeks and my body hitched as my nipples reached for her. Jacket open, those telling tight buds were a bigger advertisement than my very wet outfit.
Absolutely fucking figures, what an entrance.
Attempting to cull the little dignity I had left, I put on my best Canadian polite and venturing a smile said, “Good morning, um. Sorry to trouble you, but –”
“Come in Dana, please,” she said, attempting to suppress a laugh. Her voice was clipped, but mellow, seductive.
“Thank you.” I stepped across the threshold and stopped, mouth agape, staring in wonder at what lay before me. The aroma of burning wood captured my senses and I immediately felt dreamlike warmth. In front of me was a carpet I’d lay wager was centuries old. Heavy oak beams criss-crossed the ceiling. I’d died, descended Hell and was now in Heaven; stepped out of time. ₤15? God, I’d have sold my soul and traversed the fissures in Hell for just one night here!
Then it hit, harder and deeper than a fist inside my aching cunt. How can a place one has never visited be so familiar? I knew every inch of the dwelling, but had never stepped foot inside. I had dreamed this place. I had dreamed this woman. For five weeks, I dreamed the reality in Déjà Vu.
But, it can’t be – it was only a dream.
The raven-haired woman stared down at me. The blush in my cheeks spread elsewhere. I tried desperately not to squeeze my legs together as my too long ignored button demanded. Looking up into her alluring eyes, I wanted her to push it. The thought made me shiver.
The capacity for civil discourse deserted me. Swallowing hard and gaining some measure of control, I slipped into shy mode, awkwardly adjusted my perfectly fitted ball cap and reluctantly pulled my leather jacket across my full breasts.
Breaking my impossible reverie, I called out to my hostess, “Excuse me?”
“Yes?” said the tall dark haired woman, salaciously.
Her eyes were intense and I swear to fucking God I stood before her naked. Feeling the blush ignite my soul and creep up my body, I shivered before hesitantly asking, “Could I trouble you for a towel? I’m really…” Though true, my brain refused to allow, ‘wet,’ to roll off my tongue. “Well, everything’s soaked through, and, I, um…I’m really…I’d hate to ruin the carpet,” I rambled inanely, staring fixedly at my muddy, sodden boots.
Squirm, is that the term? I don’t know what the fuck it was, but her gaze reduced me to a puddle.
To my horror, the puddle wasn’t just rainwater dripping. Good Goddess in heaven! Between my thighs, little streaks of red emerged from the hemline of my rain soaked shorts. My period started. Oh, it just fucking figures.
“Don’t worry about that…” she said amicably, “Just take them off there. Go to the study by the fire. I’ll be in presently.” The intensity in her eyes left me wondering exactly what I should take off. Erotic images of my naked, desire filled body burning from her fire played in my mind.
A silent, ‘down girl, you’re bleeding’ went through my head. My eyes followed the trail of her long arms, lingering on the graceful hands that pointed to the study. Oh, fuck me blind, this can’t be really happening.
An awkward smile played across my lips as I slipped once more into polite Canadian.
“I’m really sorry to come early…”
I saw her eyebrow hook up and her top lip curled into an almost leer. Crimson exploded across my cheeks. This wasn’t going well. I’d never felt so out of sorts.
“Yes?” she said.
“Is there a possibility of getting out of this at all, with any dignity?” I queried.
“D’you want to?” came the reply. Her eyes tore into me, porcelain cheeks stained red and the connection with my soul was instant.
Crimson fire spread down my body. My breath quickened, blood coursed and pounded. Could I? Was I really hearing what she said, or was I mad? Two weeks? Fuck, I wasn’t going to last five more minutes in her spellbinding presence.
I took a deep breath and looked directly into her eyes. If there was a time to let loose, this was it.
“That…depends. ” I let the word hang and stared pointedly at the rose coloured streaks lazily rolling down my legs.
She walked toward me, her stride certain and graceful. Dark pants, low cut waist, and a form fitted burgundy t-shirt showed off her luscious body. It was easy to see the tight muscles and taut nubs under her shirt. The woman radiated power and confidence. A smile sneaked across her lips, sternness easing from her features.
I was so being played. And losing, my body thought happily.
“C’mon then, leave your boots and stockings.”
Moving close, she reached beside me, picked up my backpack and hefted it like a sack of feathers. I couldn’t suppress the groan resonating from the back of my throat when her breasts rubbed against my naked thigh. The reaction was swift and pleasurable.
Hot shivers exploded inside me in anticipation of the fingers of desire being replaced with the reality of flesh. Only my ‘polite’ Canadian upbringing kept my hands stuffed in my wet shorts pockets and off her inviting body. Pretty carpet, nice pretty carpet. The deep red clashed with my crimson cheeks, but was a perfect match to rivulets snaking down the inside of my thighs.
She walked the few feet to the entrance of the study, a turn of her head indicated I was to follow.
“Shall we see what we can do about that…” she paused, her gaze moving from my shorts, up my clingy, wet t-shirt and with a slight flick of her tongue against her top lip, “shiver of yours.”
Whoa Dude, my brain scrambled, was this really happening. Walking into the study, I felt my lips swell in anticipation, blood flowing with great haste, heating me from the inside.
Watching her crouch down before the sparking fire sent prickles jabbing up and down my skin. It was hard to resist the urge to squeeze my legs together to relieve the urgent pressure. Blood leading me away from conscious thought into primal instinct, arousal became understatement.
I was aware of my surroundings, but all thought ceased.
“Come,” she said lasciviously.
I almost did.
What little sanity left in me wondered at the russet towel neatly folded over the dark reading chair facing the fire. My gorgeous hostess, her porcelain skin and captivating eyes leaving little doubt where her thoughts were headed.
Make conversation, polite Canadian instructed. I opened my mouth to speak, the sound a slight, “Ohhh.”
So much for polite Canadian, think of something else.
Watching her hands stoke the fire, I imagined them stoking my own embers, licking at the warm red heat inside my body. Want became need.
She stood and held the towel out, inviting me. Feet moved of their own volition. Alluring eyes locked in a dance of seduction with mine. Lips parted in a sensual invitation, wanting to taste. Ears blocked out all save the sound of my own deepening breath. I wore want in every pore and communicated building passion.
“Come by the fire, Dana Carwyn,” she commanded.
Command? The thought sent an unfamiliar rush through me, stabbing at me. Good God, I wanted her to seduce me. I stared at her lips and imagined them kissing my neck, playing with my breasts, biting hard, before her tongue slid inside me. My body wanted her touch, to be possessed by this exquisite raven-haired beauty.
Fuck me, my body called to her.
I stared up, wanting the feel of her body atop mine, those aristocratic hands caressing, spreading me open and fucking me. Would I have to wait long for her to make me cry in ecstasy. Would that mouth consume…
Her eyes penetrated me. Pale skin flushed slightly and I saw her breath catch at the intent in my unspoken reply. That’s right, I thought, keep going down that road, going down on me.
When had my feet arrived? I stood a polite distance from her. What the fuck are you waiting for, screamed my body, an engraved invitation.
I moved to grasp the towel, but she shook her head, No.
“Let me,” she said quietly.
I watched the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Pale skin exploded with colour. Her eyes hooded as she appraised my ample body. Suddenly I was shy. No – I’m just being a polite Canadian, careful not to make assumptions, despite the obvious.
What the fuck are you doing, my head screamed. You haven’t even met her. You don’t know her name. What is your name, or does it matter? Fire, think about fire. Heat, rising inside an inferno.
She moved toward me and my knees weakened. Could I stand her to touch me, but what if she didn’t? It hurt to want so badly. Breathing was difficult and all I wanted to do was breathe her in.
Her hands reached out and grasped mine. Unexpected roughness greeted my smooth city-girl palms. Of course, the hands of a woman who used her body. Use my body, I thought. Let me feel those calluses play with my nipples, separate the soft folds of my lips and penetrate me, thrust deep inside. Let this reality be more than dream.
Raven, for that’s what my dream named her, drew me closer and draped the fire-warmed towel over my still dripping hair. Her hands gentle, body maddeningly close, but not close enough.
'Will you dry where else I’m dripping?’ The silky smooth liquid of arousal oozed into my shorts. I wanted this woman, needed her. ‘Is your tongue as luxurious as this towel.’
A full smile creased her face.
My eyes flew open; I’d said that last aloud.
“You tell me.” The first touch of ruby sweetness against mine melted shyness, but not doubt. Her arms coiled around my body, pulling me close, pressing into me. Doubt withdrew. Long legs nestled against me, and my body danced. Every nerve between my legs polarized. I wasn’t sure I could stand. Her tongue played lightly against my lips, leaving little doubt what was wanted in my waking world of dreams. But the dream didn’t compare to the delicious reality of her body consuming mine.
Her kiss insistent, breath hot; my wet clothes clung to me, heavy as her tongue explored my mouth and I answered the demand of her sweet breath.
Hands slipped under my jacket, calloused palms brushed with maddening lightness against my nipples, making them hard, making me gasp. Fingers crushed, then gently kneaded. Christ, did it feel good. Her touch generated a current from my breasts to my clit; every stroke sent pulsing joules down, making me wet, wetter. Exquisite pleasure coursed through me, feeding the loop.
Raven twined her fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling my head back, forcing me off balance. I had to thrust my hips against her in response. Taking full advantage of her height, her hot mouth claimed me.
Gasps, sharp inhalations escaped my lips, my breath ragged, my body a toy in her hands. My breasts, my soul ached to feel skin on skin. Responding, I pressed tighter. Velvet, that’s what her mouth was against and in mine, velvet.
“Luxurious, God what an understatement,” I hummed. Further words halted when her sensuous mouth sealed mine. Hot and demanding, I was keenly aware of the controlling grip holding me and the mix of wet fluids trickling down my legs.
Fuck, could it really feel this good. Her tongue played against mine, painting circles in abstract art.
My hips moved into the dance of seduction, in earnest.
Raven broke the kiss and stared down at me. Her own body alight with passion’s promise, “Yes, or No?”
Her hand left my hair and yanked my leather jacket off my shoulders. Hand at my back, teeth biting into my neck, fingers torturing my breasts, a throaty, “God! Yes!” escaped my lips.
“You want this. Don’t you, Love.”
“I want you to fuck me,” I gasped. My hand slid inside her thigh, nails dragging with maddening slowness to the V in her pants, enticing.
Though, deep inside I knew what she was asking.
Raven cried out and moved against my exploring fingers, “Dana,” she murmured. “You know, don’t you, Love. You know.”
My hand twisted, cupping her, adding my heat to her own; pinching my thumb and fingers together, I felt her lips glide. I rolled the hot delicate flesh against my palm. Off balance, I grabbed her arm, forcing the hand caressing my breasts tighter to my body, holding me upright.
Hard strokes rewarded by her mouth burning across my neck, coming to rest in the hollow of my throat. My breath came in short bursts, inhaling the delicious scent of her. Raven pulled me close and every part of our desire fuelled bodies touched. I so wanted to be stripped and feel her whole body against mine, come hard against her. I was close. Just a little shift to the left. But she knew exactly what she was doing, or rather what I was attempting.
“No, Love. Not like that,” came the throaty accented voice kissing at my neck.
“Want something else, don’t you? More of this.”
God, her voice, and that accent, the way she said “ov,” her words lyric and the music drove me into her. Her tongue traced across my collarbone, licking.
“You want me to eat and drink.”
“Uhn,” came the whimper from my soul. Her hand slid with determined and maddening slowness under my shirt, playing with the tender plump flesh under my breast, creating an uprising of goose bumps. Hot fingers on cold wet skin pulled hard on my nipple, making the tight, tighter.
“Ohh,” I begged with my body. I wanted her velvet tongue inside me. Fantasy. Reality. Seduction. There was nothing tentative in her touch, nothing to doubt.
“Will it make your body dance and surrender to me? Can I taste that which makes you a woman. Drink from you your power,” she breathed.
My leather jacket slid further down my arms, binding them against my body. The thought sent new shivers of anticipation through me. Her mouth, kissing, biting hard through the wet material, replaced the hand at my breast.
“Yes.” It was barely a whisper.
Every muscle in my body tensed. Surrender.
“Like fine wine.” Her hand slid to the front of my shorts, pulling them open. She closed her eyes and inhaled, moving her head around me like a connoisseur breathing in the fine bouquet of a special vintage – “Red, 1967 - exquisite,” she said, separating my slick ensanguined lips and teasing me open.
I gulped for air, my cunt quivering, desperate for her touch.
“It’s strong in you,” she said with a gentle smile.
Behind us, the fire spit and crackled. I was taken by the unfamiliar feeling of seduction. Erotic wasn’t the word for what she was doing to me.
Slowly, Raven pulled away, her fingers wet with my combined juices. Teasingly she drew them across my lips, and together we tasted the strength and passion of woman.
Somewhere long ago evil crept into this world and taught women to feel shame. Raven unbound those chains of indignity and slavery.
“Yes,” I whispered into her mouth, sealing my pledge with a passionate kiss. Her tongue was silk against mine; searching out sensitive areas, showing a promise of talents through motion I knew would drive me to abandon.
Blood. The blood of woman, the first gift of the Goddess.
My jacket slid down my arms, cuffs catching on my wrists, tangling my hands. Without breaking the glorious contact with her mouth, I tried to shrug the now offensive garment off; it was impossible. Raven’s hands slid down my thick waist, inside my trembling thighs, drawing circles in ever broadening strokes.
Still unable to respond with my hands, I used my body to tell her what I wanted. Easy sighs and ragged gasps were all the vocabulary I needed.
I didn’t want it to stop. To entice, to please, I moved against her. Hardened nipples from her careful and intense attack pushed into her. I leaned up on tiptoe to see if I could brush the hard nubs against hers, exposing my throat.
I heard her laughter, and a warm smile creased her face.
“Not yet.”
“Oh fuck.”
“No worries, Love, soon.” Raven’s voice was thick with passion.
I looked up at her, smiling at the intensity I read in her passion filled orbs. Windows to the soul; a soul afire with want.
Still struggling furtively at the tight jacket cuffs entwining my hands, I bent my head and bit into the rigid nipple under her shirt, rubbing my face against the full roundness of her breasts.
Rewarded with cries of pleasure, I bit and sucked against her. Sliding down her body because my legs wouldn’t hold me, pulling her with me – my mouth refused to release its treasure.
On my knees in front of her, I released her nipple and pulled her shirt loose with my teeth – determined to put my lips against the softness of her skin, no longer caring that my hands were trapped at my sides, or that I was kneeling before a woman.
“I will taste you,” she breathed.
With one hand in my hair holding me tight, she rocked against my kisses.
“Please,” I pleaded.
Raven’s hair fell around my face as she eased her hips away from me. Seductively, she undressed for me and let the garments fall in a heap at our feet. My eyes roamed her exquisite body, caressing with my mind where flesh longed to touch.
A deliciously wicked smile slipped around the corners of my mouth. I could smell how hot she was. I knelt back and settled on my heels. Hands trapped in the tangle of jacket under the back of my legs, I lost myself in her kiss.
She pushed me over and crashed down on top of me, my hands bound by my leather jacket. Raven tore open my t-shirt, exposing my ample breasts. Her mouth devoured them, going hard against me. Hands moved with swiftness and my shorts were undone. Shifting her weight, she yanked them from my body and spread my thighs.
“This is what you want, Love. Isn’t it?” Her hand played in the sticky wet, sanguinary folds of my body. “This is more than dreams, Love. This is your passion, your destiny. Feel me as I take you. As I take life from you, so I shall return it ten fold.
“Fuck me!” tore from my throat. Her weight against me made me crazy. “Fuck!”
“Yes Love, that’s just what I’ll do.” Swollen ruby lips devoured mine.
Under her, my body undulated, seeking her hand, wanting her inside me. I rode up against her, driving with a rhythm to make my body climax.
“Not yet.” Her rich passionate voice dripped, and I responded to the sound. “Ay, like that, don’t you. Like the sound of my voice.”
“Christ!” I moaned. “Touch me.”
“Where?” she said, stopping all motion, “Tell me.”
“Mouth. Breasts. Fuck. Taste me.” My body arched against her. “Please.”
Keeping her hand against my dripping centre, she shifted. I spread my legs wide for her, eyes closed, and felt her supple breast full against my mouth; I opened and complied, my lips wrapped around her taut quivering tip, sucking hard against the silky soft porcelain skin. Gently she eased out, travelled down my body and stopped to rest against my clit.
“Fuck. Yes.” She fucked my clit with her breasts before returning with my juices coating them for me to taste. I took her in my mouth once more and as I did, her hand slipped deep inside me. Her breast muffled my sounds while I licked, bit and suckled at her.
Everything pounded inside me. My heart thumped against my ribs. Heat, cold sensual delight assaulted me. My skin was covered with goose bumps. Erotic, hot, fleshy delights, I felt blood and wet rush between my legs. I was beyond soaked; Mother Nature hadn’t made me this wet. Her body, her wet mixed with mine. Everywhere she touched.
My hips pitched against her. I was fucking ready to explode.
She stopped.
I thought I was going to die.
Her mouth covered mine with a hot deep kiss. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe for the depth of her long ravenous kiss. Without saying a word, her mouth travelled the length of my body, tongue coming to torturous rest against my clit, my legs spread painfully wide.
A voice I couldn’t recognize as my own, begged her, “Please, Raven…Taste me.”
“Yes, Love,” she whispered against my burning, saturated lips, “Yes.” The feeling rolled over me, building a cadence all its own and I squeezed against her, tongue lapping and buried deep inside my open blood-imbrued cunt. The sweet invasion was wild.
Taboo shattered senses reeled as I felt her lips and tongue pressing deep into me. There were no words to describe the glorious sensation the woman between my legs bathed my body and soul with; inundated and totally submersed in the power of this woman’s touch, I was helpless. All feeling focused on allowing my quivering body to yield in total abandonment to her.
Raven’s tongue made a final sweep over my clit, sucking the skin into her mouth she bit hard. My hips bucked and her hand pushed deep as she rode me over the rapturous crest of orgasm, the orgasm denied these long weeks in my dreams.
Speech, difficult before was impossible now. I’d no idea the sounds I’d made. I came hard against her, some facet always held at bay, released into cries of elation and total surrender.
Raven eased up and caught my mouth with a deep, passionate kiss. And I understood the rapturous metallic taste of dreams as she drizzled my blood against my parched tongue.
Dark hair framed my face as she lay atop me, brushing her fingers lightly across my red mouth, smiling at my surrender. Porcelain skin shone in the dying embers of the fire.
“And yes, I’m Raven Arndell.”
“How?” I whispered, unable to stop myself from kissing the tips of slender fingers, staring into the fawn eyes of a face I knew in dreams.
“I sensed your presence and called you here, came each night to your dreams in hope you would search me out, my passion from across the waves.” Raven’s tender lips brushed against mine.
Slowly the sense of normalcy returned as passion’s edge receded in a slow moving tide and a pique of embarrassment crept up my cheeks. I felt the wetness under me, the elixir of my hunger draining slowly.
“You are so beautiful,” she breathed into my body, “My gift from the Goddess.”
I thought of my rounded belly, full breasts and heavy limbs, lying in a tarn of passion’s dew under us, and grew shy.
“We are all as Nature made us.” Raven’s hands gently caressed the softness of my body, kind and reassuring.
In the afterglow, my head swam with a crazed mix of fulfilment and fear.
Reading my thoughts, she continued, “So many questions, thoughts plague your mind, Dana. Don’t fear what you don’t yet understand. We are of a long, noble line from the Goddess, descended from Nature to bring life. Like a siren we call to our lost sisters to bring them home, yet few hear. Fewer still respond. So far are we lost in a world bound by custom and rule, created by the ignorant to enslave and disempower us.” Her soft accent caressed my angst filled mind.
“The blood of your body, from the place that springs life renews and brings me strength.”
Her words sunk slowly into me, and even as my mind disparaged the word, I had no other adage for it, no reference, save those of lore and stories of evil.
“So what you’re saying is…” I hesitated, knowing the truth, but unable to comprehend the thing of legend.
“Called Vampyre by the ignorant, the sharing of blood is sacred – you’ve tasted and know truth. No worry, my beautiful Dana, I am human, or was,” she said with a slight laugh, catching my lips between her teeth and playing with my sensitised nipples, “Now passed, I had family.”
A shadow of sadness passed over her face, and tears welled in her eyes. Breathing deep, she continued, “They are long dust. Once these halls were filled with life, but now I am alone. The others having given way to the pressing crest of time. They could no longer –”
Raven stopped, mid-sentence.
“There was no one would answer their dream call. Yes, Dana, I have needs…and wants,” her eyes hooded as she stared into me, “desires.”
At those words, the wellspring exploded in me. I understood, with a knowledge born of ages, but buried by time. It is every woman’s rite, every woman’s passage denied by cold ignorance.
Softly she held me, wiping my tear stained face. “Now you must decide. Will you share also the passion of my life? You strengthen me. Drink of me and leave this dark world, complete the cycle of fulfilment. You’ve tasted the power within you. Already minutes become as seconds to you.”
Freeing my arms, Raven grasped my wounded wrist and kissed it gently.
“You know the power of which I speak. You feel it now, coursing through you. You’ve tasted of your own body. Complete the transformation and drink from me, Dana. Claim your place. Think on it, and in the morrow, give me your answer.”
“And tonight?” I whispered.
“Tonight, you shall know pleasure beyond sense. I will have your body, and if the Goddess is kind, in the dawn, your soul.”
In early morning crimson mist, long past that first sunrise we walked the grounds hand in hand, my car now a rusted heap of metal in the ancient oak grove. “Come my love, and we shall call into the mist, so that others might surrender the mortal coil to the Goddess.”
Later, as the sun shone in the dewy morning sky, Raven smiled and kissed me lightly, “When first I called, I expected a sister. Indeed the Goddess was kind, for she gave me an eternal lover.” Guiding my touch, she taught me the secrets of her passion, and minutes turned to endless, eternal hours.”
The End.
Our wedding vows: Life Love Everlasting, Always Intertwining. - Sunday June 27, 2004 :)