dreamer
Slave
Registration Date: 06-27-2006
Posts: 179
Mistress Or Master Or Slave: Slave
Level: 37 [?]
Experience: 1,168,936
Next Level: 1,209,937
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Water....... hot, soft, pulsating. It runs down her body as she stands under the spray. It trickles, making rivulets, running down into every hollow, every crease of her body. It caresses her face, her neck, and her breasts, dripping off of her nipples. She can feel the heat from the water coursing down her back, and she thinks of her lovers hands, roaming over her, exciting her. She reaches for the soap, lathering her hands, and brings them to her face, smoothing the bubbles over her soft skin, inhaling the scent. Her hands move to her neck, rubbing, circling, and caressing, down to her breasts. Her hands are slick, sliding easily over the mounds. Her hand softly cradles a breast, while her other hand moves across her stomach, making a trail of lather. Her thumb grazes across her nipple, and slowly circles, bringing it to a peak. The bar of soap falls from her hand as she cradles her other breast, pinching her nipple. She squeezes them both simultaneously, and gasps at the sharp knife of need that rips through her. Oh how she needs him here.. to ease the ache she feels beginning in the pit of her stomach.
She turns in the spray, facing the water and closes her eyes. The water washing away all traces of the lather. Her hands reach up as she turns again, running her fingers through her hair. She bends slightly, stooping to retrieve the bar of soap, and resumes the ritual of cleansing her body. She brings the bar to her stomach, circling, swirling, and lathering her skin once again. Her hands move over her torso, her ribs, and circles her body to reach her back. Her hands run up and down, around, slick with lather and again she recalls the touch of her lover, and her hands become his. Roaming, caressing, feathery light touches. Her hands move to the front of her body again, and slowly trail down, to the curls at her pubic line. Her head falls back, the water running through her hair, down her face, her eyes closed her lips slightly apart, as her hands begin to lather the soft curls. She takes a small step to the side, spreading her legs slightly to allow her hands to cleanse, caress. She moves her hands to one leg, starting at the top of her thigh, and making small circles, washing her skin. She bends, her breasts falling, bouncing slightly as she reaches to her knee, then to her ankles. She moves to her other leg, working the lather up her leg, to her knee, her thigh, and again to the curls where her legs meet. She straightens, and lathers her hands with the bar of soap once more, making her fingers slick, and moves her hands to her core. She cups her pussy with one hand, and slowly moves it across her lips, her fingers parting them slightly as she covers them with lather. She moves her hand back and forth, her middle finger slipping between her swelling lips, grazing her clit ever so slightly. She stops, and her fingers move to part her lips, her other hand moving down to run the bar of soap across the delicate folds. She moves the soap over her pussy, her fingers moving through the curls, slick with lather. One finger slides further into the folds, and she slides it into her, her knees buckle slightly and a soft moan escapes her lips. She imagines his fingers, touching, exploring her, and continues to caress herself, lost in the feeling, the memories of her lover.
She feels the temperature of the water change slightly, and snaps out of her reverie, although she can still feel the pulsing need consuming her. Reaching for the shampoo, she squeezes a small amount into the palm of her hand, and begins to lather her hair. Her fingers run through it, combing through the curls, and she turns to rinse out the lather. Again, as she feels the bubbles run down her back, to the crease of her ass, and she thinks back. How he loves to cup her cheeks in his hands, squeezing, and run a finger into the crease. Her hands reach up and move the showerhead slightly so the spray is falling at a different angle.. not quite as sharp. She lies down on the floor of the shower, closing her eyes. One knee bent, she straightens her other leg and places her foot against the wall. The angle of the water is just right, hitting her pussy. Her hands reach down and part the swollen lips, allowing the water to hit her delicate skin. The feeling, god..... its like a million feathery touches all at once. Again she moans, and thinks of her lover, his tongue flicking lightly over her clit, his fingers sliding into her as he pinches her clit in his lips. The spray of water is not even; it moves across her pussy sporadically, a rogue drop hitting her clit every few seconds. Oh yessss......... mmmmmm...... she begins to move her hips, side to side, arching up and down. Her soft moans become deeper, louder, and she moves one finger to slide into her wet centre. She slides her finger in and out of her, her other hand moving to hold her lips back and apart, the water still falling upon her swollen clit. Her orgasm comes quickly, forcefully, and her body spasms, her skin quivering. She lays silently, slowly removing her hands from her slick pussy, letting the water flow over her flesh for a few moments before standing and turning off the taps. She sighs, and opens the curtain, and sees her lover's face, his smile. She blinks her surprise, but when she again opens her eyes, she finds that it was her imagination, and with heavy heart steps out of the shower, thinking how wonderful it would be to have him here to help her dry off.......................
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Wet Dreams
