Reverie
by
Lord Wolf
The oil was warming in a bowl of hot water. I was especially proud of
the oil. I had blended it myself - vitamin E oil in which I had steeped
vanilla beans and added an eyedropper of ylang-ylang. The two foam mats
were laid side by side on the floor, making a double bed, and the sheet
was spread over them.
The room was my studio, wooden floors, stained glass windows and a
bookshelf containing Japanese pillow books and a small stereo. There
were Persian Prints on the wall.
All was ready.
The doorbell rang.
Gathering my robe around me, I went to the front door. It was Carrie,
long black hair across her shoulders. Her smile when she saw me was
quick and her eyes sparkled with anticipation.
"Am I early?" she asked.
"Nah, " I replied. "I've just finished setting the space up. Come on
in." I opened the door wide and she passed me into the hallway, her
perfume just noticeable beneath the sense of fresh air that she brought
with her through the entrance.
"Same place?"
"Yup. Just go on through." I said.
She walked down the hall and into the studio. As she reached the door
she glanced back over her shoulder with a little grin.
"I've been waiting for this all week." she said and her grin became
wider.
I followed her into the room and closed the door. I went to the stereo
and put my favourite sensual CD on the player, Ancient Egypt by Ali
Jihad Racy. It had originally been commissioned for the King Tut
Exhibition and is gentle and ethereal, allowing one to drift.
Carrie began to undress. Of all the beautiful sights in the world, a
woman undressing is the most magnificent. Each time is like the very
first.
She pulled her T-shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor. She wore
no bra - she needed none. Her were high, yet full, and she
carried them with comfort. Each brown nipple stood erect, as if the air
was cool.
She sat on a chair and pulled off her jeans. She wore simple cotton
panties, which, standing, she removed, one leg at a time. Her black
pubic bush was and large and seldom trimmed. It started several
inches below her navel and almost reached her hips at the top corners
before narrowing over her pubic mound, shielding her beneath its
tangled thicket.
She lay on her stomach on the mats and waited quietly.
I removed my robe. I was naked and my cock was half-tumescent in
anticipation of what lay ahead.
I walked over to the table and picked up the now warm bottle of massage
oil. Sitting on the mat beside Carrie, I began to drizzle just a little
on to her dancer's back, soft and supple, but muscular and strong.
Placing the bottle on the floor, I began to work the oil into her back.
The nice thing about vitamin E oil is that if you use too much, the
excess is absorbed into the skin, leaving a film smooth enough to avoid
snags and yet fine enough to allow skin on skin friction, creating
warmth.
I began at the back of Carrie's neck. Her hair was spread in front of
her leaving the nape exposed. Gently, I worked at the cords of muscle
on either side and into the little canyon at the base of the skull.
This was not the time for real neck work, however, and I moved to her
shoulders and mid back. The oil began to emit its warm fragrance.
"Oooomph!" she sighed. "I'm really tense there."
As I worked down her back along the paravertebrals, I mixed the vertical
strokes with long diagonals from her ribcage and the sides of her
breasts. She began to settle in and my hands felt the release of
tension. She was beginning to drift on the music, the warmth, the touch
as I worked slowly down to her sacral dimples.
I moved back to her shoulders and mid back, using my forearms to
lengthen the stroke and cover a larger area. It is necessary to me to
ensure that the parts of the body feel part of the whole. Our social
mores and clothing seem to divide the body into "nice" bits and
"naughty" bits. To me they are all divine and must be treated as such.
I reached again for the oil. Pouring some into my hand, I replaced the
bottle on the floor and began to anoint Carrie's classically beautiful
bottom, firm but with a delicate softness that invited touch. I gently
parted her cheeks and let just a drop or two land on her anus. Her legs
parted slightly, revealing just a bit of her in the furze of her
pubic hair.
I parted her legs a bit further and she moved easily. She had been here
before. I settled myself between her legs and began to massage the oil
into her buttocks, one cheek at a time, with smooth, firm strokes. I
leaned forward into the strokes so that was almost as if I were
embracing them. I separated them with my hands as I worked and allowed
my fingertips to just brush her anus without quite penetrating the
winkled pink/brown orifice.
Carrie's breathing changed, becoming slower and deeper, yet at the same
time I sensed the beginnings of her arousal. I became fully erect and
allowed my tip of my cock to just graze the crack of her ass as I
worked. The ylang-ylang became more pronounced in response to her body
heat.
It was time to move to the backs of her thighs. I spread more oil and
began to work it into her skin, especially at the point where the inner
tendons met her pussy. I did not touch it directly though. In massage,
the more a part of the body is ignored, the more it craves to be
touched. I let the tension build.
I then "reconnected" Carrie's thighs to her bottom using long strokes,
and allowed my fingertips to again brush her anus. With feather touch I
just glanced off the perineum in passing and returned to the backs of
her legs.
The ylang-ylang began to blend with Carrie's own scent and my breathing
became unsteady as I responded viscerally to the intoxicating mix of
odours. I paused to regain control before I moved on. My glans had
sprouted a tiny drop of anticipation and Ancient Egypt floated
effortlessly through the airy stained glass-tinted sun as it flowed
across Carrie's lovely naked body.
There are major nerve centres just above the backs of the knees and I
spent a little time opening them up, careful to ensure that all was
"connected" before I moved on, taking care to just touch the perineum
lightly again.
Carrie has a dancer's long legs as well as the back, and her calf
muscles were firm as I kneaded the tension out of them, taking care
never to pinch or push. My technique is gentleness.
To massage her feet I moved down, still kneeling between her legs with a
full view of her peeking out from between the dark forest of
hair. The lips were slightly parted. I lifted one foot, bending the
leg at the knee and worked gently at it. She was relaxed because the
knee was supported by the mat. She held no resistance. I rested her
shin against my chest and worked gently, separating each toe and then
moved to the ankle, bending it almost to the limit of its range of
motion. I repeated this with the other foot.
Again I joined the parts, stroking, warming her, and inhaled deeply her
heady mix of perfumes. My cock stirred and Ali Jihad Racy played on.
Carrie's breathing was deep and slow.
I rested for several minutes with one hand resting on her leg, and
allowed us both to settle. My cock began to subside but we both knew
that this was merely intermission.
"Ready to turn over?" I asked, somewhat huskily, but very much under
control I thought.
Carrie gave a muffled grunt in response and rolled over, exposing her
lovely and lushly thatched pubic mound. Was that a tiny pearl
of moisture between her legs glistening in the sunlight? My breathing
quickened and my cock gave a randy little twitch but laid low for the
time being.
I began by again drizzling oil over her and stomach with its
deep longitudinal navel. An Arab friend of mine once said, "Only have flat stomachs. A woman's should fit into the curve of the palm of
your hand." Carrie's was perfect. She had the well-toned definition
from the ribs and down her sides, leaving a sweet roundness in the
centre. The abdomen then buried itself under her luxuriant pubis
between her thighs.
I moved around to the head of the mats and knelt above Carrie's head.
Her eyes were closed and she could not see that my cock was on the verge
of standing out over her composed face.
I reached underneath her head and began to knead properly her neck
muscles, using the weight of her head to apply just the right amount of
pressure. I then worked the front of her neck, her cheeks and lips,
bending close to hear the measured sound of her breathing. I nuzzled
her earlobes.
Her eyes opened and she gave a sly smile and reaching up, touched my my
barely controlled cock, which gave up the fight and sprang warmly to
attention. "Naughty, naughty." She smiled and closed her eyes.
I returned to her side and began slow spiral strokes over her stomach,
breasts and pubic mound. I let each nipple slide between my thumb and
forefinger. When they reached the joint at my palm I applied just a
smidgeon of pressure. Carrie inhaled sharply. Was that a tremor in her
thighs?
I moved my ministrations to her verdant mound and poured oil more
heavily. The patch was and would need much oil to penetrate it.
Carrie's legs were open and I could see her pink lips shining wetly
between the strands of hair. I leaned over and gently nuzzled the top
of the slit. I smelled the oil mixed with the darker, more ancient musk
of aroused female, and my little amphibian brain, along with the larger
primate one, could resist no longer. My tongue reached out and teased
the top of her hooded clit.
"S-s-s-s-s-t!" she hissed and opened her legs wider. I prodded her clit
further with my tongue and felt it stir into action, rising to meet my
touch. I began to suck on it as if it were a cock and Carrie began to
moan softly, almost humming.
I probed lower into her pussy, using long licks from the clit down
through the cleft into the deeper reaches of her. She grabbed my head
and pulled me harder to her, grinding her frantically against my
mouth and teeth. "Oh God yes!" she groaned. "That's it! That's it!"
I raised my head and dripping beard from her crotch and said, "Turn
over."
She did, exposing her lovely ass and to me. I leaned forward and
began probing the crack of her ass with my tongue. I heard wordless
cries as Carrie raised herself fully to me. Gingerly, I inserted my
tongue into her tight little orifice as she began to bounce up and down
on the mats.
I slid lower into her and used my tongue like a cock, going as
deeply as I possibly could into her body. Inarticulate grunts were my
reward.
Finally, Carrie could stand no more. She rolled suddenly on to her back
and pulled my face once again into her very wet, greedy pussy. "Eat me
dammit!" she ordered desperately.
I began again licking her now prominent clit, moving the hood from
around it with the tip of my tongue. She was beyond the power of
speech, emitting only feral grunts. At same time I reached around and
delicately began to insert my finger into her moistened anus. She
thrashed. Slowly I worked it in until I felt the sphincter relax and I
slowly pushed to the second knuckle. I felt her contractions begin. As
they mounted, I ever so slowly began to withdraw my finger in time to
the contractions.
"Oh God! Don't stop! Don't stop! I'm coming!" Carrie groaned. Her
orgasm built stage upon stage and with my free hand I could feel the
tension and beginning tremors in her abdomen. At the very pinnacle of
her pleasure, I suddenly pulled my finger from my ass and gave three
fast sucks on her clit. Her orgasm broke in waves of intense spasming
and my mouth on her rode the waves with fiendish glee, never
releasing her clit until her groans melted into the silence of
the afternoon.
"Whoosh!" Carried panted at my drenched face. "That was terrific! I'm
totally wasted, too wasted to do you."
"That's okay." I smiled. "Besides, I enjoy your orgasms almost as much
as you."
We lay together in the stained glass light while Ali Jihad Racy played
quietly, two happy primates suffused in a sexual glow. The scent of
superb sex suffused the air as the afternoon began its slow drowse
towards evening.
"What time is it?" Carrie asked sleepily.
"I don't know. Maybe 4:30." I replied.
"Shit! I'm late!" she said, "I've got to get home and make dinner."
She rose unsteadily from our oil-dampened sheet and headed for the
bathroom, bundling her clothes as she went. I heard the shower running
as I lay there, bathed in her glow and wonderful juices.
When she emerged ten minutes later, Carrie's hair was brushed and glossy
and you couldn't tell that not half an hour earlier she'd been a woman
in glorious rut driven by the demands of her mindless furrow. She gave
me a lingering kiss and asked, "Same time next week?"
"I'll be here." I said.
With that she was out the door and back to her regular life, back to her
husband and children in the Valley.
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