In The Land Of Nod

As the sky turns the colour of a placating merlot, I wait for you. Peaceful, meditative, and mysterious, you live in my dreams, waking me in a pool of sweat more often than I wish to admit. Tonight, I am poised strategically on my bed to look as curvaceous and inviting as possible. With one hip turned to the side, my pale ass cheeks protrude from beneath high-waisted panties, and although the blankets hide them from view, I am wearing a pair of snakeskin stilettos. My breasts also yearn for some attention, taking centre stage to the billowing wing of my chemise. Unquestionably, I am more than ready to fly.

It is almost midnight when you arrive – late but right on time. Outside, the air is cumbersome and ingratiating, and a million mosquitoes buzz around the screen scouting for new blood. Summer is the best season for us because I like to hear you coming, and I’ve left my window open just for this occasion. At the sound of your footsteps on the flagstone, my chest deflates – finally. I have been suspended in time for too long, non-existent without your touch.

When the door clicks shut, I shiver, barely able to stop myself from running out to greet you. I don’t though; I hold off, savoring the last few moments of anticipation. Seconds become hours – sometimes even days and years in our time – but eventually, on a light breeze, the curtains lift and you arrive. Shoulder to the frame, you pause at the entrance to my domain, your silhouette blending into the dimness of the room. “Hi,” you say, your voice so low that it vibrates in my belly. Is it my imagination, or are you slightly unhinged?

“Hi yourself.” My words give you permission, and you come through the room like a murderer advancing on his next victim. Later, I know you will pierce my heart, but at the mattress, you suddenly stop. Things always go from fast to slow with us, and I am not surprised when you then sit tentatively on the edge, smoothing the bed sheets in slow circles.

“How’ve you been?”

“OK.” I want your mouth on mine immediately, but instead you pendulously tickle my thigh with your fingertips.

“Did you miss me?” you ask.

“I was born missing you.”

Like you’d ever need to, you stare at me for a moment, possibly analyzing my sincerity. “You must be wet for me then.”

“Of course.” I sit up and move in next to you, pretending to fix a button on your shirt. The angularity of your collarbone makes me think of your raggedly heaving chest in the throws of passion, and my tongue traverses my lips expectantly.

Bold now, you reach over and loosen my cover-up, brushing it off into a puddle of silk on the bed. At the sight of my near-naked body, your eyes get big and I blush a bright shade of pink. Directly, both your gaze and your hand move to the spot where my underwear encircles my leg. You pull up the fabric to peek underneath, and then, with a sharp snap, you set the elastic back into place. “If you are wet, you’d better show me.” I frown because I don’t want to continue this game; I want you inside me – now. But what I want doesn’t matter, or at least you make it seem that way. “Do it… or else,” is your command. Outwardly, you appear a bit dangerous with your solemn stance and cryptic demeanor, but I know that I am safe in your embrace. You are kind and unflappable, and your only goal is to love me forever.

“Or else what? What will you do?” I cajole, leaning back to obey your request. When I slide my panties to the side, we can both see that my pussy is glittering like a star, lighting up the night.

“That’s a good girl. Now show me your tits,” you add, trying inconspicuously to ease the pressure in your pants.

“I thought you wanted to see my pussy,” I say, confused.

“Yeah.”

“Well, which is it?” I like to ask questions, but I know what to do, and when I yank down the cups of my bra, my nipples jump out to greet you. Urgently needing the constricting undergarment off, I arch my back in dismay.

“Got a problem?” you ask.

“Aren’t you the one who wants to see my tits?” I sigh impatiently.

“Ah, baby…” Are you beginning to melt? Surely I’ve done enough to instigate your submission by now. When you lean in to undo the clasp and simultaneously nuzzle between my breasts, I know I’ve won. This will be the last moment of restraint before you surrender completely. “How’s that?” I look down to see if my breasts have changed since you’ve touched them, and they have. They are suddenly larger – swollen and luscious. “God, you are so pretty,” you say, eyeing me eyeing myself. Not beautiful, “so pretty” is as good as it gets. But to you, I am beautiful; I can tell.

In the candlelight, your eyes are metallic bronze, a big cat on the hunt. Your skin too is majestic and it reminds me of black velvet, though to the touch, it’s even more resplendent. To my body, your hands provide a much-needed respite – sometimes gentle, other times rough – but ultimately they possess the ability to make me cry out in ecstasy.

“I think you should stick something inside.” Definitely.

“Like what?” I ask.

“I don’t know – anything,” you say.

“How about my finger?”

“No.” After scanning the room briefly, you grab a brush from the bedside table and hand it to me. “How about this?”

I smile. “Well, that is anything, I guess.” Taking it, I begin prodding my opening with the handle.

“Good. Now, slide it in real slow, and then pull it out again so I can see it get wet.” Doing whatever’s necessary, I recline on my elbows and open my cunt to the obscurity of the night. When I dig my heels into the mattress and honour your request, the ridges of the shaft make me squirm, but although the penetration feels good, it is your gaze that excites me the most.

“Do you want something else in that sweet pussy of yours, baby?” Now, you don’t even try to hide the fact that you are fiddling beneath your underwear. “My cock is so hard for you,” you almost whimper. Yes, I’m sure it is.

“Can I see it?” I am hopeful.

“Not yet. Show me how you want to get fucked first.” As I push and pull the brush with cautious appeal, you are not fooled. “Baby, come on… show me how you really want my cock.” A bit self-conscious tonight, I need your help to get going, and it only takes a soft whine and you intuitively place your hand over mine. The ferocity of each drive then suddenly increases ten fold. Out slow, in fast and hard, we both stab at my slit, but after about a minute, even that’s not enough.

Sensitive to my predilections, you make a forced suggestion, “Get on your hands and knees.” I am primed to obey, but before making the change, I attempt to remove the brush. “Leave it,” you almost yell.

“Oh.” So that’s what you want. Attentively, I readjust, abandoning the bristly end so it hangs out of my hole. “I look silly,” I say, raising my rear and pressing my hot face into the covers. Are you aware of the distress you cause me? Of course you are, but that’s what makes you special.

“Silly is good,” you reply, laughing wickedly before scooting in behind me. With one hand you then pinch the flesh of my buttocks; with the other, you pry at my labia, widening my aperture so that the brush gets loose. “You look nice filled up this way,” you whisper, moving in for a closer look. “And you sure smell good. In fact, you smell a bit potent tonight. Are you just horny or is it because I’m here?”

“It’s been a long time…” I murmur as you manipulate the makeshift dildo. You can make me tremble with words alone, but your ministrations have me enthralled. At the moment my hips begin to stutter however, you slap my ass hard and withdraw the invading object.

“I know you have needs, but you’ve been a bad girl, fucking somebody else. Now come here, you are mine now!” Within seconds I am suspended over your face, my pussy bulging and glowing more than ever. What I want first is for you to suck my clitoris the way you couldn’t before. You oblige in the usual fashion by glancing up at me with teasing eyes, darting your tongue in and out until I grab your head so hard that you can’t help but latch on.

In the shadows, your facial features are unclear, and insanely I wonder if I would recognize you on the street, if I will even recognize you the next time. But you are a part of me, and I would know you anywhere. My pussy knows you only too well, and she is ecstatic at your return. While she weeps onto your chin and into your mouth, I hear the shifting about of clothing as you endeavor to free your penis. Twisting my torso to look back, I am eager to behold your beautiful manhood. Truly, I want it like I want to breathe.

It takes some doing, but I manage to spin around with your tongue still buried deep within the folds of my labia. Once settled, I devour the view of your body stretched out before me – abdomen in turmoil, pants half-heartedly off, and underwear askew – but all I really see is your cock. Brazenly brown and thick as a rail, it stands tall, and I can’t help but clamp down harder over your face.

Fighting for oxygen, you wrestle me off. “Jesus, baby!” I’m sorry. Your penis is just so captivating that I lose myself in your company. It’s calling my name now, so I bend forward to swallow it fully, noting once again that we are the perfect fit. See how easily I can suck on your rod and squat over your mouth at the same time.

For some reason, as we converge, you try to speak. “If your pussy gets any wetter, I don’t think…” I faintly hear your words because discourse is almost impossible right now, but there is nothing we won’t do. The bounds of our lovemaking are limited only by the time of day, and in the nebulousness of this nocturnal bliss, we never hold back. In that spirit, your mouth and hands dart back and forth from my pussy to my anus. In and out, in and out, it is everything at once, and the contractions of my vagina start to build anew.

In the madness, I do my best not to bite you, but just when I’m about to explode, you push me off. “Come baby. Fuck me now.” Somehow, we’ve slid into the middle of the bed, and somehow we are both completely naked, but you’re still on your back, flag-poled and ready. It wouldn’t surprise me if your cock could twirl in circles. Like my very own carnival ride, it can do almost anything.

“Hold it for me,” I say, hovering over your cock.

“Come on. Put it in.” Just as I suspect, the blowjob has turned you to mush.

“Be patient,” I reply, allowing you one last look at salvation. It’s so satisfying to take you inside, and, hunkering down to consume your every last inch, I am delirious. Once impaled however, my intestines relocate into my chest, and I am finding it difficult to inhale. “Are you always this big, or is it because I’m here?” It’s a joke, but you don’t get it. You’re too far-gone.

“It’s like iron, you make me that hard.”

“Hard is good.” I laugh at your sincerity because if I don’t, I just might cry. We are in heaven at last, and as we move together – lovingly, violently, marvelously – I wonder if what I’m experiencing is real. Are you an actual person, or just a wonderful illusion? My uncertainty arises because when the sun comes up, you will undoubtedly be gone, residing solely in that time away from the everyday – outside the banking and the shopping malls, outside the dishes and the laundry. It is only in the dark that you heal my body, and I live to awake each morning renewed and fresh. Surreal as it may be, with you I can do anything, be anyone, and go anywhere. When we are together, my soul is free.

“I need you to kiss me,” I plead, requiring more of you at last, and when you sit up and press your lips to mine for the first time tonight, everything transforms. We are no longer two people having sex, we are lovers caught in a desperate act of passion, and you greedily heft at my buttocks, raising and lowering me onto your post.

After a while, the copious amount of moisture that collects between us is making our playtime sloppy and you slide me off for better positioning. “Get back on your hands and knees.” Your vehemence is rather disarming but I like it, and before you have a chance to situate yourself, I submerge my chest in the blankets and wind a slow figure eight with my hips. Enthusiastically, you then push inside and churn, scouring me with your pubic hair, and it doesn’t take long for the intensity of our tumult to become unbearable.

With only a few more stuttering thrusts, and on the exhalation of a heavy sigh, you then halt all movement. “Hold still for a second.” Your directive sounds like it’s coming through clenched teeth, and I agree; it can’t end so soon. Instantly, I freeze, and thankfully after a short reprieve, you are able to go again. I want you to flog into me full tilt now, and you do, pulling out and plunging back in repeatedly, withdrawing completely every time. “It feels the best as I enter,” is your reasoning behind this particular technique, and your potency is divine.

Suddenly, amidst the craziness, I detect something nudging at my asshole, and even though I can’t see it, I can guess what it is. “Relax for me baby… I’ll put it in slow,” you say as the tip of the brush enters. “Now push your bum out like you’re going to the bathroom. That’ll help.” Haven’t we done this before? Do I need a mini-lesson every time?

“That’s my girl… take it.” Lucky for you, I treasure your orders. Besides, it doesn’t hurt that the brush will make your cock feel that much bigger, and once filled, it is a feast for us both. After the penetration is complete, you insinuate yourself at just the right pace, but the feeling is so intense, it is hard for me to cope. And just when I think I can’t stand it anymore, you pull both the brush and your penis out, and switch holes. Could you be any more emphatic?

No longer able to submit, my first orgasm thunders through my body almost before you have penetrated me again fully.

“Don’t move your penis, please!” I beg, the spasms of my bottom and my vagina together enough to cause a brain freeze. Round two happens when you slowly remove the brush and put your penis back where it belongs.

“There you go. Is that better?” You know it is when my third cycle inspires your own, and at long last, we succumb together. It takes a while, but you finally withdraw from my body, your cock still hard and pulsing.

“Will it stay like this forever?” I ask. “If I sit on you, can we do it again?” You grin and we both watch your flower as it wilts slowly into your lap.

“Soon, baby.” I lie beside you on the bed, plucking at the hairs on your chest, our feet entwined.

You are the death of day, and the opposite of light. By necessity, it is under the cover of darkness that I express my love for you, and I pray that someday you will wake me from my dreams so that I may come alive.

Amanda Fox...Lighting it up in her den of decadence at The Fur Files!