This is a work of fantasy. It is not about real people, and if it is, its
not what they would do. (not that you are likely to know them anyway). If
you are under 18, go away, since I don't like to get in trouble. If you
are turned off by perversion, what are you doing at asstr? In other words,
go away. If none of this applies to you, great! Read on! Have fun! Let
me know what you like! Oh, and I work hard on my writing…so guess what?
Its mine. That's right and girls…its copyrighted…so if you want it?
Just askJ we'll talk.
Dryad
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She closed her eyes. She felt the power surge through her. She smiled as
she felt his orgasm flood her, his shuddering, sighing, "I love you."
She found him, like the others, online. A nice man, unassuming,
overlooked, but most importantly alone. They were friends for a time,
teasing, testing each other out. Often she wondered why the rest of
humanity had overlooked him. He was the type of she hunted for, for it
was hunting. overlooked, educated…the kind that make you wonder why
they are alone, and she knows they ask the same question of themselves.
The hunt begins slowly, seeking out the urbanity in the man. After all,
the largest sexual organ is the brain. The must know how to use words,
one who tries to please a woman. Workable clay, malleable, without coarse
sand or small stones. Words are simply communication and she knew her
needs. She needed to know how to please, where to touch, to drive him to
insanity and back. But even more than that, she needed to hear the words
afterward. Her need was to see how she touched him inside. She would
watch as a shadow suddenly turn back into real man; a of substance.
She knew he would leave her and that when he left her he would be full of
the fire her desire sparked.
Okay, it sounds mercenary. She nuzzles deeper into his arms, feeling
peacefulness and warmth. like this one, the ones she hunts, simply are
the most appreciative, and able to show that appreciativeness. They are
able to do the most with those gifts once they leave, for they always do,
eventually. She lives with that, and in some ways, appreciates that. She
is a temporary stop, a way station for the sojourner. In the back of her
mind, it also strikes her that it allows her to touch more people. For
when they leave her, they find other lovers, and are able to give more to
not just the act but the entire relationship.
She nuzzles deeper into his arms, feeling his peacefulness and warmth.
Oh, sometimes it feels so mercenary... But such as him, the ones she
hunts, are simply the most appreciative, and most able to show their
appreciativeness. They are able to do the most with her gifts once they
leave, and they always do, eventually. She lives with that, and in some
ways, appreciates it. She knows she is a temporary stop, a way-station for
the weary sojourner. In the back of her mind, it strikes her that this
allows her to touch more people. For when they leave her, they find other
lovers, and are able to give so much more, not just to the act, but to the
entire relationship.
But then comes the power. Reacting in their arms, feeling the intensity
of the action, seeing the actual power that sex controls over a person self
image, and therefore their life? And she revels in it, soaking in the
glow, the feeling and the absolute power. who feel they don't deserve
her are the exact who do. And therein lies the power, to make those
feel they do deserve, and raise their own standard. She holds him while
she can, knowing he too will have the strength to leave her, and revels in
the growth of that strength.
Copyright Dryad 2001 (gbbjg@yahoo.com)
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