A Dream...
There was a dream I had the other night. It was one that, while it was some nights ago, still causes me to pause whenever I think about it, because of how deliciously vivid it was. And while I will not name the characters in this particular instance, substituting instead for a point of view and referring to this vague person as “her”, know that this was the cause of an in depth conversation I had had the evening before, which held the same primal energy as my imagination. Here’s hoping you enjoy it, as much as I did.
The timer was set on the old white oven as we set to work. An egg here, a splash of milk there; a sprinkling of sugar, coupled with flour as the mixture began to take shape as dough. The apron I had on was a flat black, and hers a white, with some indistinguishable drawings on it. The small little kitchen, encased in off white counter tops with wood drawers and blue walls, held a small island in the middle, not 2 steps away from the oven. Whoever built this place, I thought to myself, must have been thinner than I. We continued on, preparing whatever it was we were about to make. I held onto a green mixing bowl, and stirred with a metal whisk. The timer beeped, signaling our objective. In one fluid movement, she took the metal baking sheet from the island, spun around letting her dark hair fly in the wind, knelt down and threw in the pan, letting the oven door slam with a loud bang. We talked, though the words could not be made out. I made the motions with my mouth, as did she, sometimes hers curving into a cute smile. I continued mixing, though knowing I was near finished, decided to add a bit more to my mixture, and attempted to slide past her, as she stood over the island, continuing to form.
“Ope, ’scuse me, honey, right behind ya.” I warned her. She heard my voice, yet as my back held against the oven, she stuck herself out, rubbing ever so coyly onto my sex. I was caught off guard, letting my mouth hang open and eyes widen, drawing in a slight gasp. From where I was, I could see her smirk, as she turned her head back to her work, slowly raising herself from me. Carefully, I set my bowl down on the counter top next to the stove, drawing a determined smile on my face. Playful, I thought.
My hands were filled as I ran them over the Lycra of her pants, showing off her curves in the most distracting way. She let out a small breath, half laugh, half arousal at the feeling of me holding her rear. Sliding my hands up onto her hips, and with a bit of strength, I pulled her into me. This time, her gasp was more audible. She stopped what she was doing with her hands, but didn’t move. This was her game. She stood upright, and straightened up her back, her long dark hair flowing just past her shoulders. I held her by her hips as I leaned into the curve of her neck. As I moved her hair out of the way, the rush of a strawberry scented shampoo flooded over my senses. She did not move from her stance, but I could feel a smile slowly inching its way across her face. Each kiss on her neck was deliberate, slowly starting near her collar, I traveled up to her ear, planting my lips on her lobe before taking it with my teeth, gently but enough to hear her heart beat a bit faster. I continued on, behind her ear, slowly making my way back to her collar, this time sliding my hands around her hips, feeling the soft figure underneath the apron. Creeping up, slowly savoring every inch of the fabric, my hands came across her breasts, again filling my hands as I took them. I mimicked what I had seen before, slowly kneading them, pressing them together, toward and away from her body, inadvertently bringing her in closer to me. There was no doubt, through my pants she could feel me, the outline of my thickness pressed against her cheeks as she let out a soft moan.
She turned toward me, looking at me with her big beautiful eyes. I placed my hands on her hips again, though this time, toward the small of her back. Draping her arms around my shoulders, not breaking her eyes from mine, I slowly leaned into her, meeting her halfway, as she did the same. Our lips embraced, the sweet smell of strawberries flooded my senses once again, as did the sweet taste of her lips. She drew into me, practically leaving my hands behind, squeezing her body onto mine. I took her, hoisting her up on the kitchen island, her breathless moans resonated like music in my ears. I began to undress her, wanting to take in the fullness of her figure. Her hips aroused me, the taste of her lips sent my mind into a weary spin, her eagerness drove me on, starting slowly at first, but soon ripping open her shirt, as she clawed away mine. Not breaking the kiss, I felt around her, raising her bra above her chest, exposing her to me.
Slowly, around her cheek, down her neck, over her collar, I made sure to savor the taste of every inch. Holding her ample self in my hands, slowly massaging her, I began to lick around her, lightly nibbling on her aroused chest. Every movement was followed by a slight sigh or gasp when I playfully sank my teeth into her. The oven began to beep again, ready for the next batch. I returned to face her, locking lips with her, not wanting to leave her embrace. Her hands held me tight, her body called out, screaming for my touch.
The oven beeped again. Her heated breaths seem to exasperatedly form my name.
And again. She wanted me, craving my love.
And again. She was slowly fading.
And again.
Until I woke up….