Sweet Dreams & Fantasies

From Maid to Mistress . . .

I wake up early one Friday morning and enjoying the silence of the house. I still live with my parents, but they left last night for the weekend and won’t be back until late Sunday night. We decided this weekend is the perfect time for us to be together and although we didn’t set a certain time for you to come over tonight, you promise to come over as soon as you can. I want the house to look nice for you so I spend the day cleaning. I am wore out by the time it starts getting dark so I make sure the door is unlocked and then curl up in a chair in the living room to take a break from cleaning for a little while.

When you show up a couple hours later, you find me curled up in the chair, sound asleep. You look toward my room. The covers on the bed are turned down and the small lamp beside the bed is on, giving the room a soft friendly glow. The radio is turned down low so that country music plays softly in the background. You wake me and pull me to my feet, then you walk behind me with your hands on my hips to guide me to my room. We stop next to the bed and I pull my overly large T-shirt up over my head, then let it drop to the floor . . . in the process, you catch the scent of lemon furniture polish and my own uniquely feminine scent . . . not to mention the glimpse of my bare skin. I crawl under the covers and scoot to the far side of the bed where I curl up on my side so that I’m facing you. I murmur something to the effect of “Night, Baby,” then slip off to sleep again. You quietly get undressed and slide under the covers to lay next to me. You lay on your side with your elbow bent and your head resting in your hand. Gazing down at me, you whisper softly, “Oh, angel. I want you so much. If you don’t want me, then tell me now, before I do anything.” I don’t make a sound, but I do smile softly without opening my eyes . . . then I snuggle up against you. Your heart skips a beat and you gently run your hand over my shoulder and down my arm. You drop your head and gently caress my parting lips, enjoying my instant response as I stir against you and push my arms up around your neck. You never bother to look at my closed eyes as you kiss my forehead, then my lips, moving next to my ear, and back to my mouth. My lips part and you allow your tongue to caress my soft lips . . . then, growing bolder, you tentatively probe with your tongue. I murmur against the pleasant invasion and move myself up against the warm body next to me. Accepting my invitation, you grow bolder still and slide your hand down my body and across my soft breasts . . . molding the fullness in your hand as your tongue wander through the moist playground you had already entered. You move one leg between mine, then roll our bodies so that I’m on my back and you are lying half on top of me. In your arms, I sigh, but you are too consumed with your own love play to recognize the sound as a sigh of sleep. You drag your lips down past my chin . . . over my neck to dwell between the warm flesh of my breasts. You nibble up one hill, over the peak, and down the other side, before you traverse across to the other mound . . . working your way back to the nipple which is rigid now . . . you slowly pull on it, twirling it in your mouth, and then suck slowly, until you have the whole hard nub in your mouth. I stir again and push myself up against your leg. I hadn’t even been aware of your first gentle kiss, and as I start to wake up enough to think, I realize that I’m not engrossed in a dream of unreal pleasure, but the real thing.

Slowly, I feel the growing flush of passions first stirrings . . . gradually, a spreading warmth fills me and I respond. My mouth, my neck, even my breasts were each in turn, being loved and I push myself up to allow the warm pleasure to spread through every part of my body. With my innocent response, you are beside yourself, fighting a monumental battle for control . . . as I push against you in my attempt to gain more pleasure, you give up. You roll over onto your side and pull me into your arms. Tenderly you kiss my hair, then my eyes . . . you brush soft kisses against my lips over and over. Without thinking, my arms slide up around your neck and I begin to return your kisses . . . your tongue gently pushes against my lips, begging for entrance. I open to you and the pleasant warmth of my dream comes flooding back . . . I feel your hands roaming over my curves and I delight in the caresses you lavish on my breasts. The nipples harden under your touch and instinctively I push against your hands. My breathing is ragged and I can feel my heart pounding loudly in my chest. You lower your head to the hard peaks above the noise . . . when you touch each one with your tongue, the pleasure curls through my body . . . from the point of your mouth, through my breasts, down my stomach, through my belly to a point between my legs . . . everything seems to move toward that point. I feel your hands stroke over my hips, across my legs, and then up the inside of my thighs. I want to cry out, to beg, as your fingers drift toward the curls between my legs. I tense, afraid for a second, but you kiss me deeply while holding your hand still against my warmth. As I relax, you let your fingers wander. You roll me so that I’m on my side again and lift my leg so that it rests above your hip. You continue the gentle exploration of your fingers as your tongue again plays in the sweet cavern under my lips. Very slowly, you remove your fingers and gently press forward . . . you begin to move . . . each thrust brings me pleasure, and I move toward some unknown goal. Suddenly, I am on my back with you above me, and I feel the need to move against you. Almost frantic now, I arch up, trying to put out the burning fire that threatens to consume me. The end of all this is surely my own death, but still I move against you, seeking move. There is a instant of hesitation and then it comes . . . wave after tumultuous wave of pleasure as my world teeters between past and future I am swept up into a shower of stars that blaze through the vastness of my mind and my whole soul careens up and out of me. I am somehow aware as you surge forward one last time, filling my with liquid fire, and then you collapse, falling beside me. While your breathing slows and returns to normal, you hold me tightly against you, spoon-fashion, in the aftermath of love’s storm. You reach over and turn the lamp off, then snuggle closer to me and pull the covers, that had somehow worked their way down to the foot of the bed, up over us. Never before had you experienced such a feeling, never such an intensity or completeness, you think to yourself as you stare into the darkness. The last thing I remember before drift into a deep peaceful sleep is the sweet feel of your thumb caressing the underside of my breast.

When I wake up late the next morning, I feel warm and safe. I hear you softly snoring and feel you warm breath blowing gently across my bare shoulder. Your hand is still resting just below my breasts and I move my hand to cover yours . . . my fingers lightly stroking the back of your hand and fingers. I roll over and lay on my back while enjoying the peaceful feelings. I look at the clock and decide that it is time to wake you up . . . and I know just what to do. I move so that I’m facing you, then I gently push against your hip until you roll on to your back.

You’re still snoring as I run my fingers through the hair on your chest. I move closer and blow gently across your nipple until it tightens into a hard little nub . . . then I flick my tongue lightly against it. My fingers make small circles around the other nipple as I continue to lick and gently nibble on the one closest to me. As I start working my way down your chest and stomach, I realize that you’ve stopped snoring. I sit up and look at your face, watching for a reaction as my fingers make slow circles down the top of your thigh. When you don’t open your eyes, I move my hand to the inside of your thigh and my fingers work their way back up. I’m still watching your face as my fingers reach the junction of your thighs . . . well, at least part of him is awake, I think to myself. I slide the covers down to your knees . . . then I carefully straddle your hips and guide your swollen flesh into my wetness. I sit there for a moment, savoring the feel of you deep inside me. I slowly start moving my hips . . . riding your rigid strength . . . moving faster as the feelings carry me away. I lean back slightly to increase the penetrating depth. I feel your hands grip my hips as I rock against you. I look down at your face again and your eyes are still closed but your breathing has changed . . . it’s no longer the slow and relaxed sound of sleep but fast and hard. I take your hands off my hips and place them on my breasts . . . more for my pleasure than yours. As I rock harder and faster against you, grinding my pelvis against yours, I feel your hands start kneading my breasts and your thumbs teasing my hard nipples. I feel you throbbing deep inside me and I arch my back as waves of pleasure overwhelms me. Your hands tighten on my breasts and your hips buck up against mine . . . I feel your warm liquid spreading inside me and the sensation sends more waves crashing through my body. When I finally stop trembling, I slowly slide off you to lay snuggled against your sweaty side. “Good morning to you, too,” you huskily mumble. I sit up to look at you and your eyes are still closed but you have a smug little grin. “Well, it’s actually closer to afternoon than it is morning.” I reply, then when my stomach growls I add, “I’ll make us something to eat.” I climb over you and pick my shirt up. I start to pull it over my head when I catch the scent of lemon furniture polish. I decide to wear something else as I toss it into the basket of dirty laundry, then I notice your shirt lying across the chair and quickly pull it on. While I’m cooking I hear you walk into the kitchen. You stop behind me and wrap your arms around my waist. I lean back against you and you rest your head on top of mine. We stay like this for a few minutes, each enjoying having the other close, then I pull away and finish cooking while you lean against the counter, watching me. When I’m done we carry our plates back to my room and sit on the bed to watch a movie while we eat. We spend the rest of the day in bed, cuddling and watching movies. We have just finished eating supper when my sister calls to tell me that she is coming home for the night and will be there in less than an hour. “It never fails . . . some one in my family always messes up my plans,” I mutter as I hang up the phone. We are both silent as we get dressed. “There will be other times, angel,” you whisper, then kiss me long and deeply. I stand on the front porch and watch you drive away . . . feeling very sad and lonely. When I go to bed that night I realize the pillow still holds your scent and I hug it close to me. As I drift off to sleep, I remember your words and smile into the darkness . . . “Oh yes, love, there will be other times,” I whisper, then I close my eyes and sleep.

Written 12/98 by Night Angel

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