The cool breeze swept his hair from his face as he sat on the isolated beach. It was late September and the nights were getting colder, soon winter would come. He thought of her often although he did not know her name. She came to him in a dream and he could not get her out of his mind. She was exquisite, mesmerizing, long red hair flowing, skin like bone china and eyes that left you breathless. He had to find her, she was real, and he could feel her so close....
He knew that her voice would be husky and alluring. Her skin would be softer and silkier than anything else he had previously known. Just the thought of her made his body tense involuntarily in anticipation. His every nerve was on edge...
As the wind blew, he heard a soft voice calling his name. Turning around and he sees someone from afar... Wearing a gown of black silk, staring deep into his eyes, luring him toward her, under the rocky cliffs. He stares in disbelief,” It is her. She has come to me.. “ He could not resist and he begins to follow her. She seems to disappear into the mist...almost as if not having been there at all.
That night as he lay sleeping she came to him once again in a dream. In her hair, she wore a lone flower, an orchid. Her body was sheathed in a filmy white robe and her full, firm breasts spilled forth against the shear fabric. She beckoned him to come to her, whispering of love and passion, promising ecstasy in her eyes. He reached for her but she drifted away from him whispering, "Come to me Angel, search your soul and you shall find me." He awoke to darkness, longing for her. His breathe was fast and shallow, his sheets drenched with sweat, he pulled the sheets away from his body and sits upon the side of the bed. He places his hands over his face and whispers softly to himself "I must find her"...
Walking along the beach later that day and came upon footprints in the sand. He began to follow them, not allowing himself to hope that they would lead him to her. 'Just to pass the time' he said to himself. Before long, the footprints led inside a small cave. Candlelight reflected off the walls inside...
As he ventured further, he noticed a strange scent in the air…it smelled of musk, flowers, and the ocean night. He knew it was her scent. He quivered with the anticipation that he might finally find her...his loins tightened with his longing. The candlelight flickered on the walls. "Are you looking for me?" a soft voice said. He whirled around, looking for her, and saw a shadow melt into a tunnel leading off the chamber....
He groaned in frustration. He felt so close and yet so far from her. She was as elusive as the wind, there and yet not there. She could not be that insubstantial, could she? No, he knew down in his soul that she was more than a figment of his lonely soul's imagination. . .
He continued further down the tunnel following her musky, sweet scent. It seemed he had walked miles when suddenly the tunnel opened up into a vast garden that was hidden between the cliffs. 'What is this place?" he murmured to himself. Suddenly the garden filled with the most beautiful women he had ever seen. They were clothed in filmy scraps of fabric and their long shiny hair glistened in the sun. There, high above them all, like a queen, she sat smiling sweetly at him.
She rose from her throne of flowers and floated toward him, here eyes never leaving his. She stood in front of him, "Welcome to our Amystika," she murmured.
The other women quickly surrounded him, reaching out to touch him, whispering his name softly.
However, she is the only one he sees. She reaches out and takes him by the hand leading him through a path of lilies, until they reach a door of gold adorned with shells from the sea. She stops and turns to him and they stand still, gazing into each other’s eyes. He reaches out his hand and softly caresses her check all the while whispering is this a dream....
'No, not a dream...' she whispered, 'I've always been here, my love...'
He ran his hand from her cheek down her neck, and followed it with his lips. Finally feeling her warm flesh was almost more than he could take. He let his lips venture further down, until they touched the edge of her flimsy covering...
A sigh escaped her lips as she felt his caress. All at once, they were alone; no longer did they stand in the vast garden but now in a darkened room. In the center of the room stood a massive bed draped in lush silk as blood red as her lips. A fire burned brightly in the stone fireplace at one end of the room. The stone floor was covered in furs and they stood staring into each other’s eyes. His hands moved slowly down her body stopping to caress her lower back. His lips moist, she leaned into him feeling his body tense, her firm breasts hardened anticipating his kisses. Wrapping her hands around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers, their lips touched. The kiss deepening with each passing moment, his tongue exploring her hot mouth, his hands moving down to clutch her ass, pulling her against his erection.
Slowly she pulled away from him, her eyes penetrating his, as she loosened her robe. The filmy material slid from her body, pooling at their feet. She stepped from the material, still gazing into his deep eyes. She lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed each fingertip. She slid his hand to her breast and he stroked the nipple gently. Reaching toward him, she loosened his belt and pants, pushing them over his hips and down his muscular legs. He lifted his legs one at a time from them. Her hands began to fumble with the buttons of his shirt; he clasped her hands in his. He lifted the shirt over his head and the silk garment floated to the floor. He pulled her naked body close to him, feeling every curve of her luscious body against his. The tautness of her breasts against his chest made him pull her even closer.
He picked her up and carried her to the waiting bed. Lying her down he gazed upon the woman from his dreams, she was even more beautiful, more incredible then he remembered.
He slid his fingers along her ankle, then her calf, slowly making his way up her thigh toward her center. Her breath came faster as he slid his fingers between her legs and entered her. She was so wet and hot, she was so ready for him. He continued to stroke her as he parted her legs and lowered his head to taste her...
A soft moan escapes her lips when she feels the heat of his tongue touch her tender sex. His hunger for her takes over his entire being, as he buries his head into her wetness. She moans and writhes her body in delicious delight as he drinks in her sweet juices. She feels the passion building up inside of her as he continues to ravage her, her breathes becoming fast and shallow she suddenly
arches her back as complete ecstasy overcomes her...
He moaned his approval. His blood feels like molten lava in his veins. Desperation seeks relief and yet at the same time clings to these moments of torturous ecstasy.
Her hands curl through his long hair and she gently pulls him up over her body. She seeks his lips with hers; tasting herself, she sucks his tongue into her mouth. His kiss becomes deeper as he rolls over onto his back. He grasps her hips and lifts her onto his pulsing erection. Slowly she sinks onto him, he fills her. She begins to move against him and they slowly build a rhythm, he reaches up to meet her every movement. His passion builds and his pace quickens. Her hands reach down to gently stroke him as he pounds up into her. His body begins to shudder as he explodes into her. He looks deep into her eyes, her beautiful red, ringlets bouncing against her breasts, a single teardrop falls to his lips. He has finally found her and she is his completely, he has found home.
In unison, they pause, trying to hold back that perfect moment. In that moment, all the world is still and they are the only two creatures in existence. He leans up and skims his lips over her cheeks, and eyelids. He revels in the gentle contact . . …
It is the perfect moment. Simultaneously they both grab on to each other and let the hunger, the heat, and the passion take hold. They forget to be gentle and tender. Now, animalistic passion is in command of their bodies.
