Choose Your Own Adventure

I want her. Her face, a face of anonymity, a lack of emotion, but still as she stands before me, in this wasteland of open canvas, I see a smile. I see what I want from her, I see what I've probed her for. Bright, brilliant and lasting emotion. Her skin is so rich, I want her. Her figure so perfect, I want her. This was she appears before me, is the way she comes, each night. Each night she appears to me without reason, without words. And just as she is every night, she is before me now a beacon of velvet, cocoa skin clothed in clothing I cannot recall as much as I try, over this vast emptiness in my mind.

Although I know if I were to take in her face as it truly is, I would not see anyone there. She is as empty as the place in which we meet. She shows no thought or comprehension, yet she is here with me and I see her with no eyes, but the eyes that thirst for her entire being. I do not understand why she holds me captive so, no words have passed between us, we have not shared some deep personal connection, yet, when she comes to me each night I burn with the need to take her.

As it happens, as it happens each night, mind you, at the mere thought of how great my desire for her is, she is suddenly within my grasp. I can feel the unbelievable softness of her skin, the coarseness of her mane, and breathe the musk which resonates from her body, making me want her all the more. I am unaware of my own clumsy form, this a space that is only for her. I am captive here. She my master, whom I must beg for the slightest hint of need in that empty face.

She is my vision, this stranger haunting me each night. A supple round mouth, almost a pure heart, these dark lips gracing her face, high round cheeks and vagrant almond eyes set superficially below her large, smooth forehead. Her forehead crowned with a halo of kinky, thick hair. Her form is narrow, angular shoulders with a sharp collarbone. Graceful, sensual curves that begin at her breasts which reach for the sky, her dark purple tinted nipples perched at their peaks. Her waist narrows and opens to her deliciously wide hips and slight pouch of her soft stomach, thick thighs and buttocks. Each cheek an orb scarcely marked by faint hints of stretch-marks. Her thighs, muscular, fleshy and round, whispering against each other under her dress. Her knees atop her supple calves that led to slight ankles and long feet with equally long toes. All of her coated in a spicy, sweet musk that drew me closer.

Just as my thoughts turn to how I could not bear another moment of not touching her, my hand is resting softly on her slightly rounded tummy. My hand resting just to the right of her belly button and just where the curve of her hip meets her pelvic mound. My desire overwhelms me. My gentle touch intensifies, as I know if I don't take her this moment, my life will surely be unbearable. I draw my hand closer to her hip and my other hand is pulling her near me. In truth, I know her rigid form is unyielding, yet because I want her so, her head turns. A marvelous thing. And she lays her beautifully sculpted oval face on my shoulder. Her lovely, kinky hair tickling my cheek and neck. My hand moves from her hip to the small of her back just above her high and incredulous buttocks. She is helpless to my pawing. I bury my face in the crook of her neck and take in her scent. She will be mine.

Just as I think it, she is laid down before me free from her garb, her naked form is spread and there for the taking. Her legs are parted, her breast gently rising and falling with her steady, almost sleep like breaths. Her face, although I know there is no emotion there, is as I desire her to be, yearning for me to take her. So I come to her. I grasp her feet as if they are holier than the Christ himself, I rub her calves as if they are all I need to sustain life itself. I grope her luscious thighs that allow me to mold them with my fingers. And, although it surely isn't so, I hear her moan softly, I hear her breath catch in her throat, and I feel her legs tighten against my hips. I kiss her steamy, pubic patch, her hip, her stomach, I fill my hungry hands with her firm breasts and knead her with all my love for this silent, stranger of the night.

Her nipples harden against my palms and I run my thumb across them, applying ample pressure to make her yearn for more. I kiss her now. As I have never kissed someone before. With hesitation, with fear, with lust, with the thought lingering that I must have this woman and if I cannot, I would take my life. She will be mine, I will cover myself with her juices and she will climax as no other has, and I will be the one, it must be me, I can not bear the thought of her with another.

Her sultry lips part for me, my tongue tangles with hers, and although it cannot be so, her arms wrap around my shoulders, I feel warmth from her distant form at once. Her thighs crushing my hips. She kisses me back. Her breath is inside me like the life which I take for granted. For me this is more than sexual, to me she is warmth itself. A Messiah to my loneliness, a savior to my arbitrary life.

I lay her back. I greedily rub her arching breasts and kiss her navel. I lower myself to her moistened labia, I spread them with my fingers to reveal her hidden gift. I expose her hooded clit and plant the gentlest kiss upon the soft pink nub, her bushy black hair grazing my nose. I am taken by her scent, and it fills me with desire. I suck patiently on her rosy nub until her thighs fall to the side, her back is arched, her head back, this vacant waste land filled with her grunts and grumbles, that I and I alone know to be true. I lick along her crevice I rub her thick, juicy thighs and buttocks as I fill my mouth with her wet cunt. She presses herself to my face and I breakaway in a moment to run a finger along this pink, fleshy opening, grazing her clit, sending her jolting in my grasp, and to her hole, I slowly insert my finger into this rosy cavern that I must have.

As she acclimates to this gentle, touch I become even more forceful, I press my middle finger into the opening and thrust my hand between her legs, while I watch with, attentive, thirsty eyes. I pull my fingers away from this beauty to bury my face in her sopping pussy, forcing my tongue as far as it would go into her pink madness. I withdraw my face from her womb. I observe my stranger now, sweat has begun to moisten her. And although I know it isn't so, our eyes lock. I gaze deeply into my stranger. My stranger holds my stare and we understand each other and turn her on to her stomach.

With the desire to make this encounter last, as I know it will end if either she, or I, finishes, which we are both so desperately close to, I begin to rub her shoulders. I move to straddle her hips, pressing my own throbbing cunt onto her bare flesh. I use my thumbs to penetrate the thick pliable muscle that lies just under this dark chocolate flesh. I rub her shoulders, her back, her lower back, her buttocks, and thighs sliding lower and lower from my perch atop her glorious ass. As my hands spread her beautiful buttocks apart amidst this deep massage, that lovely, pink pussy beckons to me. And like a bee to honey, I spread her cheeks and bury my face in that ripe bottom. My tongue diving in and out of her thick labia, she moaning into the pillows that seem to have been conjured for just this scene. My tongue ventures to her. . .

The lady emerges from her contemplative state, coughs, dabs her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater and re-adjusts her seat, she turns to you, her new found friend.

"Tell me, I ask of you to choose your own adventure, for although this story is of my own experiences, I ask of you to finish my sentence, and I shall finish my tale."