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The Dream is the Wish the Heart Makes by slurppuppy .... you can write to the author here |
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The Dream is the Wish the Heart Makes by slurppuppy .... you can write to the author here |
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| It was one of those
last nights of summer, when the evening air has a crisp bite to it. I
wore my favorite summer dress, a soft baby blue with a fitted bodice,
little spaghetti straps and a wonderfully full skirt. On impulse, I had
gone for a twilight drive, savoring the purple and green hills as I drove
leisurely through the winding roads. And now, darkness fast approaching, I was stuck on the side of the road, my car a dead thing, unresponsive to my begging, pleading and then at last, my anger. I hit my hand on the steering wheel and then whimpered, putting my hand to my mouth. I looked over to the passenger seat, wishing desperately I had thought to toss in my cell phone in my bag. Sighing, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to calm myself. Grimacing, I picked up my bag and pushed the door open. Just as I swung my long legs out, headlights illuminated me. Grateful, I got out of the car and walked over to the truck pulled up behind me. I gestured to my car and spoke to him of my need for assistance. I was nervous, but he seemed ok and besides, what were my options? “Get in,” he told me, “while I look at your car.” As I climbed into his truck, I noted the bench seat, remembering the days when that meant a chance to stay glued to my boyfriend's side. Carefully smoothing my skirt over my lap, I took another deep breath and leaned my head back, closing my eyes. My nipples hardened as the air cooled and my breathing slowed as I drifted off, waiting for him to come back. As I floated easily in that place between waking and sleeping, I smelled him rather than heard him as he got back into the truck. Crisp notes of citrus and wood announced his arrival. Lifting my head, I looked at him with soft, dark eyes. ”Your car is fine. You had a wire loose.”' ”Great,” I murmured. “I guess I better be going. Do I owe you anything? Can I do anything for you?” With cool blue eyes, he looked at me long and hard and said simply, “Spread your legs.” My eyes widened as I stuttered, “Wwwhat?” ”And pull your top down too.” As my eyes held his, I slowly spread my legs and one slender hand reached up and slide down first one strap and then another. Trembling, I tugged my top down, exposing my large, milky white breasts, rosy nipples tautening in the cool air. Gently he took my hands and pushed them into my thick auburn mane, his eyes promising me punishment if I should move. Long, supple fingers pulled at my nipples, sending a chill right down to my cunt. He teased them, toyed with them, pinched them and pulled them as ragged moans erupted from my mouth. Slipping his hand into my soft, white cotton hip hugger panties, he explored my pussy, teasing my clit, fingering my wetness with a groan of satisfaction of his own. Whispering into my ear, “Mmmmm, you're a good little slut, aren't you?” I could hardly breathe to speak, but nodded my head. He pulled back across the seat behind the steering wheel and motioned for me to crawl onto his lap, straddling him, my pussy spread wide, my cotton panties abandoned on the floorboard. He pressed me back against the steering wheel, my hands wrapping it, my breasts thrusting out. Pausing for a moment to savor the sight of me, he leaned forward and began to suckle at my breast, his other hand gently plucking at the other hard rosy nipple. I groaned low in my throat and my body began to move of its own accord. He stilled and whispered at my breast, “Don't move.” With a ragged breath, I disciplined my body to stillness as he resumed his attentions to my nipples, laving them with his tongue, alternating soft touches with pinches and pulls. Soft tears of frustration began to well in my eyes as my body screamed for relief. I began to plead in a velvet tone, “Please, please, oh god, please...” Raising one dark eyebrow, he leaned back, looking into
my eyes, one finger wiping at a trail of my tears and began teasing
my clit, working soft circles around it. My begging escalated as his
eyes warned me not to move. |
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