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Mental Mists
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Archive-Name: mental-mists
The following is a work of fiction. I release it to the public domain
anonymously. This work may be disseminated only by electronic means
(with the exception of temporary hard copy), and may not be published
for profit in any way. Feedback via the r.a.e. moderator would be
greatly appreciated.
Mental Mists
A (*-W E T-*) Ink Product
From the mists of your mind, I silently find you, alone again. I
steal from nowhere to touch your shoulder from behind. You whirl around
to see me, knowing who I am, and where I came from. What wonders will
your imagination bring you this time? Allow me to show you...
I am, as you made me, tall, powerful, and staring at my shadowed
face, you feel a chill run down your spine, settling between your legs
as a distracting tingle of excitement.
With a careless jerk of my head, you are made naked before me. My
nudity also is revealed, and I see you drinking in the sight of me like
a sweet liqueur. My eyes smolder as they meet yours, and I smile
slightly, knowing all too well just what you want.
I step toward you, but I do not touch you, yet. I examine the
smooth skin of your forehead, the wisps of hair at your temples, the
soft flesh behind your ears. You feel my breath tickle your skin, and I
hear your sharp intake of breath as my lips brush your neck.
Now I hold you, lightly, and you clutch at me desperately, assuring
yourself of my reality. I feast on the skin on the nape of your neck,
tasting the delicate hairs there, smelling the subtle perfume of your
body.
The heat that rises from you is palpable, and I absorb it, adding
to my own essense by it. I stroke the side of your face and your
shoulder, feeling the muscles go limp beneath my fingers as I move.
Your breathing becomes ragged, and I pull you close to me. Your breasts
press firmly against my chest, and I stroke your back firmly.
My lips finally seek out yours, and our tonuges war fiercely. It
is a battle that we both will win, though, and as I look deeply into
your eyes, we share a knowing smile.
We relax, supine, and our passion mounts as we explore each others'
bodies with our eyes, our hands, and our mouths. The skin on your legs
springs up with goosebumps as my fingers trail lightly up your thighs.
I feel, rather than hear, your gasp as I touch your essense with my
mouth, tasting you, rolling your sweet flower across my toungue. You
move in slow, flowing rhythms, as my exploration continues. My hands
open you to me, and I penetrate your center with a movement of my mouth.
I feel your response against my lips, taste the fluids of your
pleasure trickling down my throat like a rare, sweet wine. The sounds
of your passion have aroused my own response, and I release you for a
moment.
My kisses move up your body, stopping here and again to force your
body to writhe in pleasure. Finally, I am kissing the hollow of your
collarbone, and you feel me probing gently at your entrance.
By this time, your body is shaking under mine, and I claim you with
an excruciatingly slow stroke, savouring the sweet look on your face.
My hands seek out yours, and I hold you gently as my mouth finds your
lips, and we share a slow, lingering kiss.
I move in you, slowly at first, and then with increasing urgency,
matching the bucking of your hips. I can feel the tightening in your
belly, and my own zenith approaches also.
Like a wave breaking on a storm-swept seashore, we reach the
pinnacle of our adventure together. Holding hands, we survey the
landscape of the imagination together, merged as one, as we fill each
other's souls, meshed with our own.
We drift into a dreamless sleep together in an intimate tangle. As
you slip into unconsiousness, you feel me squeeze your hand lightly, and
you squeeze mine in return, smiling.
You wake, as you slept, alone in the darkness of your bedroom.
Your body is covered in a fine sheen of perspiration, and you can smell
the musky scent of sex heavy in the air. Your sheets are tangled at
the bottom of the bed.
As you lie there, recalling the passion you felt, a breeze whispers
past your ear, "Another time, perhaps..."
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