The Night The Mist And Star

Mist gathers around the house on an otherwise clear and starlit night. It moves from window to window until it finds the one it seeks, then flows in. swirling at the foot of the bed, it grows slowly solid. Finally I stand there, smiling down at you. "I'm a heavy sleeper," you said. I step closer to test that, drawing back the covers. You shift as the cool air touches you but do not awake. I stand for a moment gazing down at you. Your bedclothes are as you described, just an old and comfortable pair of plain white cotton panties. I lick my lips.

That you are asleep on your stomach makes it easy for me to tie your wrists together with a silk scarf taken from the nearby dresser. Still you do not wake. I turn you gently on your back. Your nipples rise in the coolness. I lean down to touch each one with the tip of my tongue, greeting them. You murmur and sigh.

I pull the covers to the floor. I slither onto the bed from the foot, licking my way up between your legs. Your unders are pulled taut against your pussy, the white material molding to your folds. I hover there, drinking in your musk and honey scent. I pull your panties tighter against your sex. Extending my tongue, I lick you through them. You sigh in your sleep, your head moving on the pillow. With each lick your scent grows richer. When once I laughed and said I'd never been so wet that my juices had run down my thighs, you said, "I have." You weren't exaggerating. Each touch of my tongue moistens the outside of your panties and is answered by an increasing wetness inside, until even in the dark I can see the honey-spot marking the white cotton.

Now I hook my fingers into your panties and pull them aside. I am very wet but the taste of you makes me wetter still. My tongue slides up between your lips to the hard little button of your clit. One touch, two, and you gasp, jerking upright, your eyes wide. Your hands are tied so you fall back, panting.

I rise and cover you with my body. "What? Dee? How?" you gasp. I silence you with a kiss. You relax under me, returning the kiss. "Are you a dream?" you ask.

"Maybe," I laugh, moving against you, breast to breast, belly to belly, mound to mound. You moan and I hush you, whispering, "Don't wake the house, dear."

You nod. "My hands are tied," you pout. "I want to touch you."

"Not yet, my Star."

I move you now at right angles to the bed, your ass on the edge, and slip your panties off. Your eyes are wide as you watch me sniff that delightfully aromatic garment. Then I am between your legs, lifting them to my shoulders. I eat you slowly, savoring every taste, exploring with eager fingers and tongue all the luscious hidden places of your pussy, opening you wide to pierce you with my tongue, drawing back the hood of your clit to suck it between my lips. You push your cunt up at my mouth, gasping and moaning. Reluctantly but necessarily I have to pause in my succubus' feast. Your panties make a handy gag to muffle your cries and then I return to the banquet of your body. Letting your cunny have a moment's respite, I attend to your pretty breasts, suckling your erect nipples, teasing them with my teeth. Downward, I rub my face against your warm belly and the damp abundance of your hair.

As I come once more to your sex I put a hand between my own legs. I am wonderfully wet and two fingers go into me just as two go into you. Your moans are muffled by your panties, mine are muffled by your cunt. I feel you coming, your juices pouring forth and your orgasm triggers a like climax in me. I do not release you yet but drink deep of you, urging you to another and another climax, matching you as I masturbate furiously, until I am at last sated, if only for the moment.

Trembling, I climb up and untie you, taking you in my arms, removing the gag I gave you, and letting you enfold me in a sweet embrace. Our kisses are flavored with your honey. I give you my fingers to lick, letting you taste me.

Your kisses, at first gentle, grow hungrier. Your hands begin to roam, fingers stroking, tapping, discovering me. I direct you with sighs and smiles, letting you know how you please me. Aroused as I am already, it doesn't take much. You lick my nipples, making them glisten in the faint silver light of the moon. I whisper, "Yes, my Star," as you begin sucking one. A wave of sweetly intense pleasure pulses outward from my breast as you pull at it with your lips. I push a fist against my mouth, wishing I could tell you how good it is. I like to talk and make noise when I make love. This enforced silence is frustrating, but it's exciting, too.

You shift position a little, your hand sliding slowly down my body. Your fingers curl into my bush and I open my legs for you. You lift your head to whisper, "So wet, Dee." I grin up at you and nod. You give my nipples each a kiss, your fingers caressing my pussy.

"Star," I breathe. You look up. "Fuck me, Star," I growl. Your eyes go wide but your mischievous smile tells me you aren't shocked. As if you would be by now. You tease me by stroking your middle finger between my lips, right to the the entrance of my cunt, then drawing away. Twice, three times you repeat this. My teeth must be making permanent marks on my knuckles and I want to shout at you to fuck me.

Your finger goes straight and deep into me, making me arch, snatching my breath away. You pull it back, tease me again, then take me again hard.

When I materialized in your room I was strong and firm, hungry for my Star. As I devoured you I grew so hot and wet that began to melt. I was little more than jello when I untied you. I don't even have that much structure anymore, I'm pure liquid.

In the morning your mother is going to ask if you wet the bed and being a smart-alec, you'll say, "Oh, no, Mom, that's not pee, that's Dee."

I pull you to me. "More," I gasp. It takes you just a beat to understand. I squeeze down on your two fingers. You kiss me, sucking at my tongue.

"More."

Three, ah, three, the stretching is there now, sweet, pulsing. I lie back in your arms and ride the waves each stroke of the three sends through me.

"More."

Now I think you are shocked: you don't obey at once.

"All."

You have to shape your small hand a certain way and that takes a moment, but it's worth waiting for. And so is the look on your face as your hand disappears inside me.

Stretched, aching, breathless, I look into your eyes and mouth the words: "Fuck me, Star."

You bend down and kiss me. Your hand moves, out and then in. I let go a long, low moan. Your hand moves. We kiss again. I am in heaven.