Dream Lover 32

Soft hands smoothed out the worry lines on Sam's face. A tender kiss caressed his lips as he fought to distinguish the line between dream and reality. He slept alone. He

knew

he slept alone, and yet she was so real. He could smell the scent of her perfume, exotic, foreign to his all male environment.

He reached up to smooth the hair back from her face, the face of an angel: serene, eyes filled with love and understand. How he longed to hold her, to make Delilah his with more than just the magic of his mind.

Delilah. How prophetic. She was his weakness, his reason for breathing, and yet she was nothing more than a dream, an illusion created to fill the emptiness within.

Arms heavy with sleep, eyes unfocused, blinking to bring her back into sight, he willed himself to move, to take the chance he had worked so hard to avoid. His fingers grazed her cheek, and she smiled and turned her lips to his hand, laying a kiss on this hand before pressing it to her flesh, reveling in his touch.

I've always loved you

. The words never left his lips, but he knew she heard them.

Brown hair framed her face. A sheer white gown edged with lace barely shielded her from his raving eyes, while he lay nude on a white sheet. A matching top sheet and blue comforter was folded at his waist. A light mat of hair feathered over his chest and tapered down his stomach. His breathing was uneven.

He loved her. He struggled through the fog to reach her. She was sitting beside him, for God's sake, and yet she could have been years or miles away. He stopped the struggle and relaxed, knowing it had to be a dream, another in a long line of dreams about this non-existent woman, this figment of his imagination.

She smiled. He rested. He so seldom allowed himself to rest. Even his dreams were filled with battles, chases, and conflict. If only she could make him understand that she was there for him, to comfort him, to give him peace when none would come.

Gently, she reached for him, once again soothing his brow, running her fingers over the scruff of his beard and down to his chest, tanned skin over muscle. Battle scars marring his beauty, a slash to the side, an abdomen wound long since healed. She rested her hand over his heart and closed her eyes, pulling the pain, the emptiness from him. The wound might never heal. The barb of a woman's betrayal never really healed.

Her healing hands pulled out the poison, then slid lower, moving the covers away from his body. His member lay at rest, but not for long. Delilah moved down the bed to kneel between his legs, her hair sliding across his pelvis. With a whisper, she willed his body to respond, to rise to meet the warmth of her breath.

Sam moaned; his eyes fluttered beneath his eyelids. His dream had taken an interesting turn.

He stood at the edge of a lake. The cooling wind caressed him, and lifted Delilah's gown and hair. With the moonlight behind her, the image was surreal. She was too good to him, and he didn't want to live without her, no matter if she were just a dream.

With a wanton grin, she kneeled in front of him, slowly undoing the button on his jeans. He sucked in his stomach to give her room to maneuver. So many times they had met, held each other, talked until dawn, but never had she looked at him with such longing, never had she made a move to take the relationship to a heightened reality. Smoothly, she eased his jeans and boxers down below his ass. His cock twitched to the feel of her warm breath so near him. His hands went to her head. He loved stroking her silky smooth locks.

"You don't have to do this," Sam said.

She looked up at him, smiling, "I want to."

As she watched his eyes, she cupped his cock in her hands, sliding them over the head and down around the shaft, holding him firmly within her grasp. Her tongue flicked over the moistened tip, tasting him. Slowly, she took more of his cock into her mouth, holding her lips firmly around him, feeling him throb and hearing his moans.

Her hair fell down around her, curtaining off her actions from Sam's vision. He captured her tresses and held them in one hand. "I want to see you, to see your sweet mouth wrapped around my cock. I've wished for this for so long."

She moaned in reply and continued the slow path from the head of his cock down over the shaft until her lips reached is tight sac. She held him cupped in one hand while the fingers of her other hand slid lower teasing him, testing his tolerance for even more pleasure, stopping just short of fingering his ass as she felt him stiffen. No matter. There would be time for that later. She moved back to cupping his sac as she applied a tight seal around him with her lips, her tongue cocooning his member in warm moist pleasure.

With excruciating slowness, she worked her mouth back up to the head, using her tongue to memorize each contour, each flavor of his so sensitive penis. Looking up at him again, she saw he was lost in the moment, his eyes closed, his lips parted, as sheer pleasure overtook him.

Sucking him into her mouth she bobbed over his cock, sucking his life's energies from him, feeling her own body responding to his. God, she loved to sense of power that came with going down on a man, of watching him become a living, breathing mass of passion, all for her taking.

She fed on his need, pumping him into a frenzy, teasing him with her teeth, swallowing his length until it touched the back of her throat, all the while caressing his balls, and adoring the scent of his sex, so close to the surface.

Sam's hips bucked to meet her thrusts. He fought to remain standing, to fight the urge to press her head into his crotch. God, her mouth was heaven and as much as he wanted to come, he wanted to feel her wrapped around his cock forever. He wobbled, forced to take a step back rather than fall as he felt his load pumping up his shaft. Delilah felt it too, and pressed her tongue against the pulsing vein, sucking deeper, harder, determined to drain him, to taking the poisons infesting his body and make them hers, to free him to relax and be the man he really was.

"Oh God! I'm coming, Sweet Jesus, I can't hold back." Sam cried out, his hands pressing her head into his crotch. He stood on tiptoes, his back arched as he pumped his hot semen into her willing mouth.

Time stopped as he hung on the edge of blissful insanity and pure gratitude to his angel in white, and slowly, as she slid his cock from her mouth, the dream dispelled into the pleasure of nothingness.

Sam slept.

Delilah leaned back on her heels and licked her lips. Her lover laid before her, relaxed, his cock sated, and his body lost of the tension she had felt just a few minutes before. She so wanted to lay down beside him, to feel the heat of his body meld with hers, but the hour was late, and she wasn't real. Perhaps in another life, they would reside in the same realm, but until them, they had their dreams, and these few secluded moments of pleasure.

As she stood, looking down at her lover, he rolled over to his side, his breath even. A smile graced her face as she faded away into the stillness of the night.