They say dreams tell tale of subconscious desire. If that's true well then my subconscious is already getting way ahead of itself. Then again I'm not much into fate and destiny and suchlike so for all intents and purposes it was just a wet dream. But god damn what a dream, she's standing right in front of me like an apparition, my fear isn't in spite of her presence it's because of it. Her eyes set me ablaze and all at once I'm being baptized in fire. Burn baby burn is what I say, ashes to ashes and all that.
I spread my arms wide and for the life of me I can't remember if I spoke or if she just knew but a moment later she was in my arms and whispering the word yes against my lips. The way she drew out the s like a hiss made me wet my panties and her lips sent shocks through my body. I can feel the sweat beading on my skin and I'm burning up leaving the scent of me in the air like incense. The smell of us is thick in the suddenly hot air and even with the sweat rolling between my breasts I'm shivering. My teeth nibble across he bottom lip tugging and my hand slips between our bodies under her shirt across the smooth plane of her belly my nails rake the skin lightly traveling languidly over her ribcage then cupping her breast.
The weight of it in my hand is so familiar I feel like I'm holding a memory in my palm. I feel an electric tug in my belly when her nipple tightens against my hand. I'm feeling ferocious as I pull my lips from hers and my hand from her shirt. I push her back slightly to make a space between us. Without warning I rip open the shirt she's wearing. She's naked from the waist up looking like she can't believe I tore her clothes off. I shake my head and shrug my shoulders in one fluid motion as if to say "Girl you knew I would." I'm fumbling with her pants wondering why the hell they seemed to have so many buttons and zippers. Her abdomen tenses and I can tell when I look her in the eye that she's laughing at me. I feel the catch on her pants release and slip my hand into her pants. She's not laughing when I manage to push to fingers into her easily.
The sound she makes, makes me moan and then chase the low deep sound with a laugh. I can feel her wetness sliding over my fingers she feels like a ripe sweet juicy fruit. I want to taste the wetness that I'm causing but I move slowly. My strokes are without measure, my aim to tease.
I pull my fingers out not done by a long shot; I only wanted to wipe that grin off her face. I work the jeans over her hips kneeling to do so. I look up again she's smug. "That's a perfect position for submission." That's what she tells me
