The Dreaming Tree

“Mmm.” I bit my lip as the sensations washed over me, sending shivers down my spine. A warm raspy tongue trailed from my neck to the slope of my right breast, circling around and around but not quite achieving the peak. Always coming so close, but then beginning to circle again. Then the tongue moved to my left breast, giving it the same treatment, but still not giving me what I wanted, what I needed. I moaned again, arching my back, offering myself up to him. Still, my tongue of torment would not give me what I sought. I made to move my arms, to force the tongue to my will, but I could not, all I got for my efforts was resistance and pain in my wrists and a metallic clink as the handcuffs scraped against the headboard.

I was handcuffed to the bed. My mind cleared briefly and I realized this. My feet were restrained also, but they were tied up in a smooth-surfaced rope. I was blindfolded too. Oh God. Where was I, what was this, WHO was this? Then questions didn’t matter and the world narrowed to that tongue, its lips and my right nipple. “Yesssssssss.” Gloriously full lips encircled the tip, the clever tongue swirled around it, gripping it within his teeth in an almost painful sensation. Again, he repeated the same treatment to my left nipple, while toying with first with his hands.

I squirmed on the bed, pulling on my restraints, grinding myself against the body above me, bucking my hips, needing attention at my throbbing core. All I got was a halt to the activity at my breasts and a slap to my ass before the body lifted away from me, leaving me bereft and cold. ”Nooooo.” I moaned out, twisting on the bed, fighting my restraints.

Then I felt it, a slight shift as the mattress dipped on my left side. He was back. I stilled my motions, waiting for what he was willing to give me now. I felt his breath hovering over my right breast, then the left, rustling the fine hairs there; but he didn’t give me what I wanted: suction. “Please.”

A husky, throaty laugh. The a silky voice whispered into my ear, sending shivers through my body. “You haven’t begun to beg.” I couldn’t help myself, I whimpered. Me, who was always strong and was known for giving as good as I got, was at the mercy of that mouth and those lips and that body. And I liked it and wanted to beg for more. So I did, again. “Please.”

The mattress shifted again as I felt him straddle my body, settling himself on my thighs and, Oh God, I feel it! Teasing my entrance, moistening itself on the flood that came out to meet it. I squirmed, trying to lift my hips, anything to bring them together. I needed them together, to feel the fire racing through my veins. But he was just toying with me. He rose up on his knees and after a final swipe of it against my gushing center, he shifted down on the bed, his hairy legs sliding against my clean-shaven ones. “Nooooo,” I cried. “Please, noooo.”

A chuckle. “Told you.” Ugh! Yes he did. Well that was it. I was not going to plead any more. I was done. He could do his worst; I was a rock. Ha! As if he knew the direction of my thoughts, he made a mockery of them. Two hands braced his body on either side of my hips. His tongue dipped into the slight hollow of my navel. He flattened out his tongue, licking around it, sending my stomach muscles quivering like a bowl full of Jello. He speared his tongue, stabbing it into my navel and my hips came up off the bed. I think I surprised him even; I certainly surprised myself. “Please.” My head thrashed against the pillows and my hips grinded against the mattress. Large hands gripped them, stilling them as his thumbs slid through my moist nest of dark curls. “Please what? I can’t read your mind you know. You have to tell me.” I bit my bottom lip. I wasn’t going to beg, I wasn’t.

The hand holding my left hip lifted and I sighed. Then I heard, “Mmm, tasty. Sweet and tangy,” and a smacking sound like he was licking his fingers. I’d had pineapple juice with dinner. Oh God.

A metallic taste filled my mouth. I had bitten my lip so hard that it bled. A thick finger slid along my full lower lip, soothing it. I couldn’t help myself. I opened my mouth and sucked it inside. He hadn’t been kidding; sweet and tangy. I was a mindless quivering mass, floating on a sea of sensations, my only anchor that finger. I sucked on it as if doing so would keep me afloat. Then he pulled his finger away, my head raising to follow it. “Ohhhhh.”

“Please,” I whispered. Nothing. No sound, no movement. Nothing. Then I remembered. I had to tell him. “Please, I need your mouth,” I breathed. “Where? Here?” He sucked on the tender flesh where my neck joined my shoulder. “Or here?” He bit my left nipple until I felt pinpricks of pain. “Or maybe even here?” He slid back down my body and I could feel his breath moving against the damp curls. He hovered there, just out of reach as I felt myself stretched taut. I arched like a bow, lifting myself to him. After briefly nuzzling me, he pulled away. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” I collapsed, chest heaving, my body broken out in a slick sheen. “Please, I want your mouth on me there, your tongue inside me.” A throaty chuckle from my captor. “Now that wasn’t so hard was it?” I could almost hear him smirking.

Then I didn’t care because his mouth was where I wanted it. On me, in me. He didn’t ease me into it. He started at sixty miles an hour, spearing me with his tongue, moving it in and out in an imitation of another act. I felt myself building, squirming beneath him, my head wild, plastering my hair against my face and chest. I’m so close to being over the edge that I don’t notice at first that he has slowed down, switching to long stroking licks, lapping at the sensitive nub just inside my entrance. He switches again, making particular movements with his tongue.

It takes a moment, but the memory of some random conversation around a table in the café pops into my head and I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s spelling out the alphabet. A curve and a downward stroke for the ‘D,’ Four slashes for an ‘E’… Right around ‘S’ I knew no more. I was gone, over the edge, my hips thrusting up to meet his mouth. My arms and legs pulled at their chains. I arched again, the soles of my feet and my shoulders the only points on the bed as wave after wave of rapture rolled over me.

I dropped back down, a boneless heap on the bed, gasping for air and trying to still my breath and heartbeat. I didn’t even notice him releasing first my feet and then my arms, pulling me upright into his embrace, drawing my limp arms over his shoulders as he captured my lips with his. There it was again, sweet and tangy. I sucked his tongue into my mouth, playing with it, dancing with it, slipping my tongue into his mouth, exploring his dark secrets. I bit his lip, my sharp teeth drawing blood, and he pulled back, cursing softly. I reached up a hand, pulled off my blindfold and gasped at who I saw. “Ram?!?”

I shot upright, gasping for air. “Honey, what’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?” I turned wide eyes to concerned green ones and came back to where I was. I was in the meadow with my boyfriend, Pride, under the big oak tree. We had had a picnic lunch and I had dozed off, held against his broad chest, my head resting on his shoulder, lulled to sleep by the bleating of the sheep in the pasture nearby. I settled back against him, wrapping his arms around me, stroking them softly. “That’s it exactly, a nightmare. Nothing but a dream.”