(WARNING: This story is rated MATURE for adult content and explicit imagery. Keep this story and all other material like it out of the hands of children.)
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You step out of the bathroom, having just taken a warm bubble bath. Your towel is tightly clutched around your otherwise naked body; a smaller towel is tied up around your head, as your shampooed hair dries. You shiver a little from the chilly wind blowing through the partially-open window near your bed; you hurry over and shut it. You then go to your closet and sort through the various nightgowns you can choose from; eventually, after a moment of searching, you find a silky blue one and set it down on the bed.
Undoing the knot in your towel, you allow it to fall freely from your body, to your feet. You are standing in front of your mirror; you take a moment to admire yourself—your lush, firm breasts, your slim but fit waist and hips, and the neatly-trimmed hair on your pubic area. Undoing the towel that binds your hair, you allow it to fall loose and free about your shoulders, not completely dry yet, but it's nothing a short rub from the towel can't fix. You rub your head nice and dry for a little while; then you walk closer to your chest-of-drawers.
Opening a drawer, you pull out a bottle of your favorite scented lotion. You walk over to your bed and sit down on the edge; then, squirting some of the lotion into your open palms, you proceed to
s-l-o-w-l-y
smear it onto yourself. You start with your shoulders, moving along the length of your arms and rubbing back and forth. Then you rub some of the lotion across your chest…and as you do so, you can't help but toy with yourself a little, gently rubbing your breasts in your hands, teasing your nipples with your fingertips. The little buds are getting hard by your manipulations, sticking out to the size of your very fingertips. You sigh as you continue downward to your stomach, continuing to rub the lotion into your skin.
Then you rub more of the lotion along your legs, paying attention to your lovely feet and toes. As your hands pass along the insides of your thighs, you have a strong urge to touch yourself, to tease your pussy lips and your aching clit…but you manage to restrain yourself. You haven't the time or energy to spare for a make-out session with yourself tonight. One touch will lead to another, and another, and yet another…and then, before you know it, you will have run out of precious energy that you'll need for tomorrow. So, reluctantly, you finish rubbing the lotion over the remaining non-erotic parts of yourself.
You now get up and slip the nightgown on, feeling it cling to your skin like the embrace of your lover. Too bad he isn't here tonight, but that's all right—tomorrow will suffice. Settling down on the bed again, you glance over to the small alarm clock on the nightstand. 9:55. Yes, as much as you would like to stay up another hour and satisfy yourself, you can't afford to—not tonight, at least. The next day will be full of appointments to attend to, deadlines to meet, meetings to engage in…
You settle yourself in between the covers on your bed and, reaching over with one hand, flick the nightstand lamp off. Leaning back into your pillow, you close your eyes…
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A faint light shines on you. You toss and turn a little, wanting to go back to sleep—but the light doesn't diminish, though it doesn't get any brighter either. As your sleep-fogged brain is roused, it crosses your mind that you must have forgotten to turn off one of the lights in your room. Not to worry, nothing a simple act of getting out of bed and going over to the offending light source can't fix…
Then, as your eyes open, you make out a shape standing before your bed: a humanoid shape. Disbelief swirls through your sleep-riddled brain as reality sets in—someone is here with you. But who is it? Could it be your lover? Hmmm…no. The form before you is definitely different from his. A burglar, then? But this would have to be an extremely skilled burglar, for you always securely lock your doors and windows before retiring at night. For one frightening moment you wonder if this stranger, whoever it is, is planning to violate and murder you in your own house, in your own bed…
Your eyes have now focused enough to have gotten used to the shining light, and the intruder's form is much clearer now…although for a moment you aren't sure if what you are seeing before you is real.
Am I dreaming?
you wonder.
The figure before your bed is that of a woman. A nude woman. A woman with breasts so beautifully perfect only an artist could have drawn or painted them, hips and thighs so strong-looking that they had to have been sculpted out of rock, and eyes so green and clear that you momentarily mistake them for emeralds. Her skin is, oddly enough, of the lightest shade of blue; almost as if someone had carefully and deliberately coated her body a whole other color. Her hair is jet-black, coming down to her shoulders. But what strikes you most is her face: it is a face full of gentleness, full of playfulness, full of purpose.
Her face, very clearly and without a doubt, is like a mirror image of your own.
As you watch in wonder, this mysterious woman walks over to your bed and sits down next to you. You start to speak, but she swiftly puts a finger to your lips, shushing you. "Shhh," she whispers, and her voice is very much like your own when she speaks. "Just relax…"
Then she brings her face close to yours, pressing her lips on yours. Her lips are soft, sweet…they smell almost of the ripest fruits. You are stunned at first, wondering what to make of this—this woman, who has a face that could pass for yours, is actually kissing you. It is almost as if you are kissing your own reflection. Yet, somehow, you can't resist her…it is almost as if the strength to do so has been suddenly drained from your limbs.
She kisses your neck, one hand reaching to cup one of your breasts. She alternates between rubbing and squeezing it, catching your nipple in between two of her fingers and pinching it lightly. A strange warmth begins to grow between your legs as your body reacts to her touch. As she quickly places her mouth over your other breast and begins to suck, you arch your back and open your mouth—but no sound comes from your vocal cords. Your body is getting warmer and warmer by the moment; slowly the thought that this is a woman with strange-colored skin whose face is exactly like yours passes from your mind.
She nurses from your breasts, alternating between each nipple; meanwhile, her hand creeps down to your thighs, pressing in between your legs. You groan aloud as her fingers twiddle with your clit and slide up and down the length of your pussy lips. She is teasing you, exactly the same way you tease yourself when your lover can't be there to do it for you. You suck in air between your teeth as she slips two fingers inside your warm, wet opening, finger-fucking you slowly.