ANOTHER DREAM
Hello there. I had another dream last night and thought
you might enjoy hearing about it. In my dream, you are tied
to a bed. Not just any bed, but one designed by the goddess
herself. You awake, wondering why the room is filled with
light, perhaps thinking it to be from the cool and distant
Aquarius Moon that seems to be causing you to feel the electrical
currants more so now; giving you a sense of restlessness
and even exhaustion. In the light of the moon, you see a woman
reclining in a lounge chair, her face hidden by a veil, her
body dressed in shear black gauze, reminiscent of the gowns
worn during the classical era of Egypt. The low cut neckline
revealing the white of her full breasts. Gold bands surround
her thin arms and one single necklace is adorning her long
neck. It is made with black onyx, with a teardrop of a blood-ruby
garnet in the middle. You sense her wry smile and she laughs
in a low throaty manner, giving you chills and a feeling
of expecting the unexpected. She reaches for her love-toy
and begins to slowly masturbate, and you watch not fully
understanding if you are dreaming or not. She knows how
to please herself, and in a short time, she climaxes, her
body arching so you are able to see the milky white fluids
of her ejaculation, flowing slowly from her most secret
place, and it fills the air like a thick perfume, akin to
a rich musk.
Now she walks toward the bed, and you attempt to free yourself,
only tightening the leather ties more securely. No, you
are her slave right now and you understand this, and the
idea secretly thrills you causing your cock to rise, turning
a deep purple, full of desire, wanting release, yet knowing
she will not let you have one...yet. You will have to be patient,
and good, as she expects full obedience from her slave.
She begins to run her fingers up and down your thighs, and
you feel the soft-buttery leather of the long black gloves
she wears. Never quite touching your cock, she stops just
inches beneath your rock hard member. You are suffering
now, and beg for relief, but no.....you are going to have
to wait. She moves her body over yours, and on her knees she
drapes herself just over your face, undulating to the exotic
pounding of the drums you realize are creating the kind
of music met for fucking---for the shear sake of fucking.
Animalistic and wild, she comes close enough for you to
lick her clit, but darts away. She enters your mouth with
her tongue, fucking with your own tongue, teasing your
teeth, and deep-throat you with her quick cat-like gestures.
Now she moves around quickly so her back faces you, and you
are able to see her in all her naked glory. She moves down
to take your cock in her mouth, sucking, licking, her tongue
finding every inch of your desire, but stopping you each
time you are about to explode, by grasping the base of your
dick. She spins around again and demands that you eat her
pussy, and you are happy to oblige. She comes again, and
you feel juices running down your face, and realize she
is wetting you with her sweet cum.
Suddenly, she takes a small knife from a pocket in her gown
that she still wears, and slices the bounds that keep you
from freedom. Now she demands, ?I want you to fuck me now,
deep and hard-just the way I like and need it.? Free at last,
you pull her down and now secure her arms above her head so
she can feel the same restraint she gave to you, secretly
desiring to be taken in a more forceful way than most men
were capable of .
You enter her quickly, but now make her wait, moving slowly
at first, but with the beat of the music in the background,
you begin to fuck---hard---deep-, and fast; moving with
the beat of the drums.
You cum at last, with her, and she releases a primal scream
of deep pleasure and you fill her with what seems to be gallons
of your hot cream.
You awake finally, remembering the dream, half wondering
if it was real. Your wrists hurt, as though you have been
bound and you rub them to get the circulation flowing. In
the shower, you notice your nipples are sore, as tough someone
had been sucking hard on them, and you wonder again if it
was just a dream. You drop the soap and bend to pick it up,
and there on the top of your foot is a tattoo, beginning to
wash away with the hot water, having been made with henna.
Before it disappears down the drain, you see the imprint
of the Sun, being over-shadowed by the full Moon. And you
wonder...again.
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